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Wind Of Change
Life changes quick as a breeze-
Blowing backward through painted porcelain trees
The fake foilage unaware
Of such mighty and mysterious air
Topples and breaks
Into glass mirrored lakes,
Broken pieces reflect
What so few seldom suspect:
All is not secure and safe
Here, in this phony land of sugar plumbs and sweet cakes.
It's all bound to come apart
With the new wind that's blowing,
The fake forest we've been sold gives way
To the true trees of home, forever growing.
The time is at hand,
For the children to retake their promised land.
poem
by
Smoky Hoss
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