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Acceptance is part of the patient process of winning. Something only those oppressed need to worry about. For the oppressor won’t live long.
Jack shares his thoughts in this poem.

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The pendulum swing at its height
A return is in sight
We might have lost the fight
But that was game one
We ain’t done
Second game is time, son
They’ll run out, zoom
Nothing they can do to change that tune
The end comes soon
This was ain’t through

And we’re learning their ways
Filling offices each day
That realization is the source of their rage
They’re scared they can’t stay
When the pendulum swings back
And they begin to drop like flies
That’s when we’ll rise
Flood the freshly empty skies with our minds
Change the rules they’ve tried to keep as tools
To trick us into remaining fools
It’ll be turned on its head and reset
The fucks who don’t die of old age will simply wish they were dead
We’ll stop caring for them
Make their own design rob them blind
Feet it back into the new system
A buck at a time

The goal is to get those of them still living to regret their lives
They’ll be shown the same treatment they’ve given people of color, gays and women
Chastised and tossed aside
This revolution will be televised
We want all eyes to see them cry and beg to die
We won’t comply
It’s just a matter of time