The alley which runs behind Main St.,
is a hidden space of dark reality;
For those who have no other home,
it breeds life's dismal hospitality.

From the emptiness of aging buildings,
where falling bricks frame this gritty site;
At every corner stands a broken soul,
each staring blankly at the moonlight.

Young folks slinking along the corridor,
smoking cigarettes and drinking beer;
Their words are boisterous and crude,
taunting the homeless with their jeers.

The ladies pull down their faded dresses,
trying to hide their obvious shame;
As one glanced at the teens with anger,
who then called her a filthy name.

Suddenly sirens blared from the boulevard,
and all the youngsters scattered about;
Leaving behind the wretched squalor,
of the city's poor and rejected crowd.

This is a portrait of grief and sadness,
lying far beneath a starlit sky;
Where heartaches find their only home,
when a blinded world rolls quickly by.