Old Man

••

Chair leanin back

••

Watching

(You know where)

••

Days are painted pictures

We are the stories
Written there

We like the shadows

Our lovers are the lost hurtin ones

In the alleys

We prey upon them

Upon the weak

••

Old man

Ain't THE MAN

He watches and knows

••

Our tiny souls

Our morbid fears

••

Rivers of blood

••

(We ain't really here

We got no story !)

••

The painted fabric of Day

Fades as we embrace Oblivion

••

Old man

he gone!

.••

A new child is playin

On the roof of the tenement over yonder

Sees the alley and  the mountains far beyond