You come at me strong;
some force to be reckoned with,
knocking me down flat
in the blink of an eye —
taken from one stance to none.
In your belief, you are
a being to be bowed down before,
like some royal operative
to the worsened acceptance of
hierarchy, washing out the unwanted
and purging all that fail to
meet that wretched mark.
Well, see us now; see us stand
before you with our shoulders back,
chins up, legs straight, no bent knees
ready to crumble, to fall beneath
your weighted dictatorship.
You believe you are the force to be reckoned with:
well then, try reckon with us.