Sunday Night Moves Poem by Cigar Aficionado

Wealth departed flocks that church
have helped mouths depended
now are gone.
Most this night have all there bear
and wine night flows on like all
cold and hurried spirits do.
Hours latter hands rocks fist cuffs
land locked people fight not
knowing what they do
so help me Trade up.
Paramedics morning come they are
collecting wounded many brains that
hears trade say catch a rock with your
head dead the head the next day see.