THE BAKERY QUEST

she ventured along as so often before
to pick up a plain loaf of bread
she’d done it for several years heretofore
with never a cause for dread.

on the road, so silent, she’d heard it said
there’s violence all over the town
there’s murder and rape, oh hundreds are dead
and the shops have their shutters brought down.

and yet she went (they had no bread!)
from a distance though screams she could hear,
of the goons as much as the victims they shred.
she stopped. she was trembling with fear.

she turned around slowly, all covered with sweat
and silently cried out to god
and when they did find her, she gasped with regret
as she fell to the crack of the rod.

e’en then she could feel the foul breath on her face,
while her coins for the bread she clutched.
too late, too late, her steps to retrace,
but it wasn’t her money they touched
…. it wasn’t her money they touched