Slanting slits of streetlamp light illuminate the brand new night,
Old wet boots that slap the ground step down and down and down and down,
While passing buildings one by one with a walk as fast as some can run.

Voices ramble, tilt and amble, Left-side teen tribe fluorescent gamble.
A bottle message bellow smashes glass silence.
Then hidden hollow eyes brighten from this bizarre kindness,
Surprised to find the praise to be pure of heart and free selfish finesse.

Regrettable silence answers adoration due to doubt and disbelief,
And taken back in time the answer would be nearly as pure and brief.
But in the accidental inattention honorable intentions make a final mention,
Beckoning a nice night in a final sympathetic extension.