Night on the Town
Coils of mist within damp air
Curl through this darkened
Spot so long abandoned.
The heady fragrance of
Gasoline, the scent of flowers--
All decaying within their concrete
Tomb. Tall building so close,
Crumbling into narrow lives that
Walk through echoing streets
Of desolate emptiness
And futile hope. Dreaming
Their dreams, but never escaping
Their self-made prison; looking
Off into the distance where
A lone street lamp stands,
It's glow suffocated as it
Fades into blackness, the
Only thing left between
Here and there, now
And forever.
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witless WRIT LIT
~ by me
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Poetic Fabrications
Short Somethings
© Anna Vo
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