Fairly Unfair?

They ain't, anymore, talking.
Their clamour fade.
The footpath dwellers,
The wannabe strugglers,
Or the suicide brigade.

They absolutely lost to death.
Cannot seek justice.
The living, left behind
With axes to grind
Can, only, poke at peace.

The murderers in secret
Have powerful corridor.
Their swagger lofty
Their hands nifty-
Nowhere blood nor gore.

This is since the beginning.
And last till it be.
Weak expendibles
Muted forgettables
While mighty crooks walk free.

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