Hindsight, II

I wonder if the government is warned
Of riots, of attacks, or certain doom
Some half a dozen times before the bloom
Of rosy-fingered dawn is well-adorned
With bright and early mourning.  Here, alas,
Is one they should have heeded, in a state
That’s given far too easily to hate
And rough internal suffering, the mass
Of all its population too oppressed,
And beaten, giving beatings, giving heed
To god, when he requests a people bleed.
And thus I cannot see how a request
For more protective measures passed away
Along with all the others in the fray.