Sunday, December 3, 2006

DARK ALLEY

Share it Please
The smell of rotten waste
Footfalls echoed with haste
Tears shed, pain flooding all muscles
Cold beat the remnant of the hassles

In the light, ignorance is played
Stores open while sales delayed
As the sun yawns for a night rest
Passerbys vaporizes at their best

Walking drones, they fit the profile
Appear from nowhere as they file
eyes like owl, piercing through anything
swift as a cat, ready to pounce or sling

 


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