PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Fear and dread for on what I might tread 

Now the tables have turned.

I'm standing a top a bunch of tall poppies

Ready to crunch but under their cruel shadows lay the blades of grass and delicate wild daisies and dandelions in my path 

I won't stomp them out you see because they're one of me 

The blade of grass and the wild daisy. They bunched together when I was lonely and stood straight by my side as we were mowed down 

And we always shot back up blooming fast 

But now the power of the prided poppies has leapt from their false idolatry into my righteous hands, I feel compelled to share they my brothers and sisters in arms were also not treated fair. My vengeance must be wetted down for all the kings and false crowns are the diamonds stuck underground held captive, and those seeds of good will yet to have sprung will when I'm done be smothered in dung 

And whilst unpleasant as it seems new ground will be broken and new bulbs will lift to the sky and the plastic poppies won't wilt and die but, when we all know we can fight the good fight 

So I'll tread lightly and hold back atonement and pain 

And suffer more for less so that many will gain. 

May they lament and not do this again those tall plastic poppies who in the sun fade raise their kingdoms in vain with nothing but a Pharisee and no true worth to gain. I tread lightly in the dark 

Not to crush them, the blades of grass, daisys and dandelions who also deserve their time in the sun.