Hullabaloo, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @brianrrs37 on Twitter)

When death is due
What of our fury
Our flurry, our hullabaloo?

Cancer may take you
Or maybe a mugger
Maybe a virus, six feet under

And what of you
Of you, this activity
Commotion, your hullabaloo?

Nothing at all,
You can do,
Delay at best, hullabaloo?

Wring your fist
Pound your chest
Kill your enemy, hullabaloo

They think they are
Better than you
Their social norms, labels too

Their skin tones
As white as bone
They founded America

And they killed you
They brought you on ships
And forced you

But they’re dead now too
All of that power
And nothing to do

Popping the corks
New Years too
All for not, this hullabaloo.
(end)

The oppressor dies as well as the oppressed. MacBethish on my part a bit I guess. But it is to say all of that power, squandered asserting some feigned superiority over other humans, and you still died anyway.