Cartridge poppy fields drones not bees buzz above
Stranger soldiers stand atop of armoured cars
Turrets turning pointing spitting
Roadside revenge awaits to mame
Mother father boy girl radar surrounds searching for a future
Cloak swaggering corruption advised by straightened ties
Escape, escape the pings on the radar speak
A boat brings them to backs turned and the hateful frowns of the soldiers’ masters.
MAX LANE ONLINE 