Who cares for your years or the weight of your name,
When power is wielded to stifle and shame?
The wisdom you boast, the titles you wear,
Mean little when justice is stripped and laid bare.
You’ve traded your crown for a scepter of fear,
And twisted the laws that once brought us near,
To the promise of freedom, the hope of the free—
Now crushed by your hand, and betrayed by decree.
Your age may have measured the passage of time,
But each passing day, you tarnish your climb.
You’ve forsaken the voice of the people you led,
To silence the truth and rewrite what is said.
What worth is a title if truth is denied,
When liberty’s rights are trampled and tied?
Who cares for your years, your experience vast,
When the people you serve are shackled at last?
Power corrupts, as the old axiom goes,
But even a tyrant can never compose
A tune that is just, or a song that is free—
For the anthem of people is not theirs to decree.
Who cares for age or past renown,
When power’s misused to tear us down?
The weight of years, the crown of grace,
Mean little in this cruel embrace.
Who cares for age or past renown,
For when the law is bent and torn,
And voices silenced, hearts are worn,
No title earned, no age attained,
Can absolve the soul that’s gone astray.
To twist the law, to rule with fear,
Is to strip away what we hold dear—
Our freedom to speak, our right to stand,
Our voices equal in this land.
A tyranny masked in suits and ties,
Turns citizens into mere spies,
Afraid to speak, afraid to rise,
While those in power close their eyes.
The years, the rank, the hollow pride,
Can’t wash the stains that still reside.
For those who misuse what they control,
Will answer to the people’s soul.
So who cares for the years you’ve spent,
When your actions mark a sad descent?
Power must serve, not crush or bind,
For true authority is of the mind.
