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May Riots Come

A Poem

Fields of amber, yellow, gold.

The fields I see when feeling old.

I feel the anger and feel the cold.

I feel I do not what I'm told.

The answers kiss my very lips;

They hide beneath my finger tips.

An empty casket gently flips,

As mother nature shakes her hips.

Another born to die and rot,

In some high Gods new thickened plot.

The rulers rule and mark their trot;

And babies drown them from their cot.

A mothers love can never fade;

And still I fall in love with trade.

I have no need for fights and raid;

May riots come and right what's made.

Read next: Need the Pain
Andy Maudling
Andy Maudling

I write a blog called Written Word on Wordpress - which I mainly publish poetry. I struggle/cope day to day with severe mental health issues & generally love to write and discuss.

Please consider leaving me a tip!! All are welcome!!

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May Riots Come
Read Next
Need the Pain