A Silo Shines Like A Golden Rock Poem by Mark Heathcote

A silo shines like a golden rock
It's a reef of hope circled with flies
And there's blood in the valleys
But be thankful you say
It isn't yours, it isn't mine.

And look there are tables full
Hidden from heavy laden eyes
But nobody there ever sees
They break bread and throw it
Away, with a stained despise.

A silo shines in blackened skies
Where nobody here ever dies
It shines for commerce and you
It shines for a crooked staff
That leads all who don't cry.