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Monsters Under Your Bed
They weep for the stranger, the vote-seeking pawn,
Hashtags and vigils from dusk until dawn.
Laken Riley, jogging alone in the light,
Beaten and broken in broad daylight's sight.
Her final breath ragged, lungs burning with fear
Where was the outrage? No protesters near.
Rachel Morin, trail-worn and trusting the way,
Raped on the path, then taken away.
Eyes wide in terror, hands clawing for life,
Where were the signs when she fought with the knife?
Jocelyn Nungaray, only twelve, lured beneath stone,
Two strangers upon her, no mercy shown.
She cried out for Mommy, and now she lies dead,
As you protest and protect the monsters under her bed.
Kayla Hamilton, gentle and trusting at home,
Stabbed by the gang member free to roam.
Her last gasping cry, heart racing with dread
You demand due process for monsters, but not for the dead?
Trafficked and nameless, thousands unseen,
Sold into darkness, no hope in between.
Their silent screams swallowed, no posts, no refrain,
While open-border saints conceal young names slain.
Why grant monsters the right to draw breath,
To climb on your daughter and gift her to death?
Why hate the ICE agents who'd cage such a beast,
Yet cradle the stranger for votes in the feast?
Billions in fraud, siphoned off in the night,
Tax dollars funneled to fuel endless flight.
The same hands that rally the ignorant horde
Profit from chaos while sharpening the sword.
A protester's death sparks rivers of rage,
Front-page crusades, the political stage.
Laken, Jocelyn, Rachel, and Kayla—forgotten dead;
Their slaughter just fodder, their stories unsaid.
Two protesters' corpses help the party ascend,
While a child's blood is the means to that end.
Choose now in the silence, the truth cold and bare:
Your child's last terror, or the monster's blank stare?
But silence for daughters crushed under deceit,
The monsters' beds you make so neat.
PROTECT YOUR CHILDREN NOT CRIMINALS
#ICE #MinnesotaRiots #ImmigrationLaw @megynkelly @bennyjohnson @OkayRickk @CivilRights
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