Harvested

Harvested 

by Ricky Mave 

String'em high and string'em low

For every spot they can't forgo!

And loop it up and pull it down

They don't deserve feet on the ground.

And cinch it tight and let it squeeze—
We sinners sway silently in the breeze,

And not by God's heavy hand

Ascetic in our own demand!

One by one jeers vanish silently

As we join them, ornaments in a tree

And woop-di-do they didn't expect

Society noosed its own neck.