Trust

Her shoulders sag from weary losses

Feet trudge forth with groaning sadness

And so it is when ‘mong the hoaxes

Truth jumps up with jaunty coaxes

She spots the child and sees a knave

Picks up the shovel and digs her grave

His eyes are ones she’s seen on many

They always melt into the bellies

Of beasts in blonde and hounds in suits

Lynx in heels and fox in boots

But in the end her vulture mind

Picks apart their clear disguise

They bellow “We’ll come back for more”

But in the end the same old lore

Repeats itself in different looks

And in her dreams she sees the crooks

So now her hopeless eyes behold

This one more eager old or gold

Too spent to open up her mouth

She simply shrugs and heads for south