Saturday, December 14, 2013

A Poem: Who's the Keeper


Who’s the Keeper

Turning back on the old wheel spinning round
Frozen in the cold of my station 
Hearts pumping an old tars viscosity
Hold up the flower and beg for sunshine
In and out with my eyes ope rolled and blood shot
The old woman waves a toothless grin
She wants to steal the child’s bread
Starvation is the new character moral
Dance with spinning hungry lions
The blood will never drip slowly
The vultures like to wait for the cries 
Music that floats on a the pain of a man
Tears that roll down the cheeks of a beautiful woman
She has the key they want her
He is demeaned he’s bloated
Where is the path that holds the spring rivers truth
Is it hidden by the weeds or are dying roses to pretty to look past
The wheel spins and creaks in the wind
The desert heat is the rich man smile
Sell another button for proud fan fair
He bows and all members of court applaud 
Without him the would have to think
Without him they might be free
Being free the might fail
Failing they might get hurt
They are luck the fat rich man keeps them safe

Out of trouble in the desert

No comments:

Post a Comment