The hoods go up, the bandanas come out.
Their day really starts, when the sun goes down.
Geared up with paint, backpacks are full.
Armed not only with colors, but triggers to pull.

No stops in the stairwell, it's straight to the top.
Hope you grabbed your inhaler, in case of the cops.
The last couple steps are slathered in ice.
Their will to go higher it really entices.

Reaching the rooftop, the flashlights go off.
But the rooftop itself just isn't enough.
Steel rails to trail, the water tower is their peak.
Their names and their tags, voices to speak.

So when the city looks up, from I-75.
Their beacon of art, is kissing the sky.

A possible proverb.
A lover's tradition.
Initialed and locked.
The key ammunition.
Said to be permanent.
For two love birds glue.
Symbolically secured.
Naturally construed.

I still dream about you.
It's a place we still talk and know one another.
A place where your hand still finds the small of my back,
even in subtle conversation.
I haven't forgotten the depth of your heart or the beauty of your soul.
Though I'm quite certain you'd never find yourself here,
it's still as if you never left.

A bench isn't much of a bench,
when there's no one to have a seat.
Dreams are just dreams,
when reality is said to defeat.

They don't care about what you want,
or care about what you need.
They're looking at your ghost town,
with a need to be freed.

They retreat to where they parked,
just a ways down the street.
The silence is so very loud,
but still remains discrete.

When the colors have faded,
and the fire burns out.
And the people are gone....
you become the drought.

She's never been more planted, more set in stone.
Severely tangled roots right down to the bone.
It's a dreamers world, a playground if you may.
To wish all the worries and cares right away.

Where a laugh echoes mildly, there's no sparkle-less eye.
Where the heart beats so loudly it can't be denied.
Where we stem from and grow the bark on our backs.
Where we challenge ourselves with relentless attacks.

But we bud and bare fruit by trial and error.
Only seeds from mistakes have power of terror.
If you seek good weather and nourish your mind.
You become the one that's so rare to find.

An angel is supposed to guard,
here she sits while her beloved forever sleeps.
A concrete face, a whispered lullaby,
while loved ones grieving weep.

The tombstone stuffed animal,
just another soulless face.
A way in which to remember you,
by someone elses grace.

But your memory meant so much more to me,
than an ornament cast in stone.
The featured wings can't calm a visit,
when I'm standing here alone.

Broken windows
and opened doors.
Chipped paint
and faulty floors.
A rusted ****
and restless yellow.
A shadows moment
in an empty hello.
A different view
hidden corners.
A little light
from too nice of a foreigner.
A promise here
forgotten there.
The damsel in distress.
Beware.

I traveled several seas of no where dreams.
To a paradise that existed only between destinations.  
You could find me, if you time me, but I'll never stay too long.
For tomorrow is not promised.
I'm running out of daylight.

I've seen them come
I've seen them go.
The aftermath
of a heartless show.
They're steps ahead
while you're steps behind.
Their echoing footsteps
your peace of mind.
Rewind, rewind,
rewind, repeat.
Eventually
you're alone with defeat.
Unless you change
your way of thought.
And learn self love
is where love is taught.