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Tools of Trade

Hands and hearts
with guns and blood,
and as we start
the rivers flood.

To arms! For glory!
the captain screams,
to write this story
and all our dreams.

Without a prayer
we don't look back,
the children stare
with eyes of black.

As sweet as honey
the days are made,
with drugs and money
our tools or trade.

Author notes

Written 7-19-09

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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Comments


  • Fritz O skennick gold member
    September 25

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    Cool...

    Strong, smooth flowing narrative with great imagery & flawless rhyme that captivates throughout...
    Keep up the good work...
    Well done!!!