The Pretty Poppies

The Pretty Poppies

The point man saw the red flow of poppies run over

He didn’t know what he had stumbled upon

He quickly realized this was not a field of clover

As he scrambled for his life and took a dive back into the tall tall grass

He and the others knew they had brought trouble up the ass

As others caught up with him, they couldn’t believe their eyes

For what they saw were millions of poppies all around them

So many, so far as the human eye could see

Standing in those fields ready for harvest

Picked and processed and ready to be wrapped

Into the plastic containers where they were hidden and kept.

Opium here and opium there

The gold in them was easy to understand

As the traders bickered on price and profit

As those poppies were grown for nothing but greed

And every poppy grown had bloodshed on their seeds

We turned around for fear they would see us

For afar we could tell they were busy making the deal

Set aside their cultural traditions and let the poppies bring them their hard earned pay

A natural stimulant, these red flowers were here to stay

So as the poppies border the fields of harvest, they were ready for market

Cultivated, grown and packaged for profit

They were natural beauties, an awesome sight to see

But getting too near could end your life with fear

In a country so poor, these flowers had a purpose

And the opium grown was their road to their success

As their beauty separated them from the rest

No opium pipes were seen or smoking

No poppies were taken for they belonged to someone else

And as the endless line of trucks were loaded

The poppy was re-seeded and grown again

So that in time, another harvest was broken

As the money flow kept coming, bring these traders their needs