No Rest For The Wicked Poem by John Ackerman

No Rest For The Wicked

It's quiet now on the edge of town
food is scarce on the land
There's a turbulence something stirring
How can you even face it
no rest for the wicked
they travel in packs as a wolf
every corner they will follow
hearts are filled with bitter sorrow
they hide behind a squeeky wheel
others insist as no big deal
they can't help you cause they can't help themselves
searching through the garbage for truth
fall under the hiden garb of compromise
can't we see through those lies
they stay up all night with fright
in search of blood dripping blood off of side
the evil run away to hide
when they see the light
falling on deaf ears
they falls with bitter tears.