Joe Four

We live or die in here, the first one offers wine, others circle near, bereft of drama or lonely stars, our debts reach high, the journey’s never are, moon bright trees blink sere, lit with an inner light, no one hides their fear, someone makes a mark, another wonders why, it skips a happy start, lemons tart as tears, chill a ghostly birthright, don’t see the danger near, forget our shining cars, they won’t hear us sigh, we wait before the arc, this hell hole on the weir, allows no-one's rights, to be cool, considered, clear, walls scream strife and fire.