17 years now and
the sidewalk hasn’t
changed much,
But that is the opposite
with you

Whiskey lips and a
cloudy sky in your lungs,
the high is still a wild
and untamed beast

Hours of dreaming
are of few most nights,
to much work to be
done,
The sentences in your
head, over and over they
will sing

The chase now is not
merely just a game
but a way in which you live,
Find her in the night
sing to her the sonnets
written on the pavement

The buildings will tower
over you as they have
in the past years,
look up at them in awe
and bask in the glory
of human intuition

A pen will always be your
solace,
never forget that about
yourself