Black Market

No drops for my wheel, The heat I feel For the haze that hovers the tank - holds the flow At this time - all is slow I'm bereft of drink, As there's a steep hike With a fleet of legs on the street A trade we meet. Bargains under the shade forgone- For transactions under the sun. They look on as the sale goes- Them they can make no foes Back door business stays on the rise- While our morals of it take their dives