The Wind It Blows

Poem By Bill Simmons

On a dark and quiet lonely street
In the middle of the night the boys they meet
And the wind it blows
As though it knows

Tonight they will try to be a man
Take being poor in their own hands
And they gather
Believe in each other

At two am a silent alarm it sounds
Inside a bank the boys are found
They are surrounded
And one is wounded

Suddenly more shots ring out
The boys won’t surrender without a fight no doubt
The lights go out
All is quiet now

The mothers gather beside the boys
And place on their coffins once played with toys
And as they recall
The tears they fall

Now on another dark and lonely street
Another group of boys tonight they meet
And the wind it blows
As though it knows.

Copyright 2005 Bill Simmons

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