you pay with purest silver
a Judas kiss placed on the lips
of dreams that leave you quivering
shadows stretch across the lawns
the traffic lights are red
thoughts race through a busy mind
as you downshift into dread
nothing that was promised
has come forth to fruition
going past the mountains
with all of their superstitions
on you drive past sleeping valleys
nestled in open ranges
the sun sinks low--night settles in
but the crescent moon looks strange
damn the piper and the devil's dues
the deck was always stacked
you paid out with heart and soul
and it's too late to turn back
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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