Partake of the fruit, my friend.

The rewards are ours to reap;

we have planted the seeds.

 

Let the sweetness linger

on your tongue, catch in your throat

the rewards are ours to reap.

 

Bent like daffodils,

children in war torn starvation.

Shining like sunbeams,

mothers in radiant aggravation.

Pouring like a fountain,

the blood of man.

Plentiful as grass,

the lives lost to hate.

Fallen to neglect,

the long house we create.

Standing strong as an oak,

government’s blind justification.

 

 

Partake of the fruit, my friend,

the rewards are ours to reap;

we have planted the seeds.

 

A poem in progress.