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Poem

Snakes sometimes are simply sheep
sleeping, and easy to tame and keep;
but all this depends on the way they milk you
and the sustainability of all it too,
for when  the scantiness winters come
their once virtuousness is released venom
from their one time sweet singing harp 
as their virtue and their vileness overlap.
and the sleeping sheep
unwind like snakes in the rumbling wind.
and they become snakes in body and mind,
and these snakes rise like a swam of bees;
the distressed sheep; the sheep not at ease:
these snakes that are sometimes cheap,
sheer sleeping sheep
now wear darkness and recite dark verse
when winters come, the winters of scantiness.

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