winds of change

you bite the hand that feeds you

have the nerve to ask for more

while family and friends are praying

behind the locked, closed door

it seems to be your fancy

to do just as you please

while rivers are red and flowing

upon the empty streets

you claim "I didn't do this"

"it wasn't only me"

Judas stands there knocking

for the gold he needs

the winds of change blow gently

then gust to hurricane force

as you wonder how it happened

shake your head with little remorse

Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License