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
No comments:
Post a Comment