By: Gray Gabriel
Down the avenue
Or pushing through a rut
The tramps, they sit in diners
And would rather a shortcut.
O, the night is full of change
The city is not sane
-Watch for the bloodhound
That is limping down the lane.
The willows are not hollow
Blood streams through the eyes
On occasion you can hear
The little girl that cries.
Hark! Do not halt!
Do not stand to stop to wait!
The night consumes
Those who loom
Onto its porcelain plate.
The beggars, they may ask you-
The cops, they deal the wrath.
The street has an end
When you walk your own path.
Gray Gabriel
Gray and Mars Poetry
"All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on."
~Henry Ellis
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