Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The lights i live by Are not disco lights
They go red , amber,green
Red man , green man
Does movement or stop
Fill my crippled paper cup
I like the light it crackals
But I live by is darker
Lives beneath my skin
Were I am dead
Maybe one day
It will be my disco
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Do you have 50p
Really i need 20
About begging at traffic lights
For those who can’t face today but still long to see tomorrow, ****** offers a warmth that feels like hope—a hope that never arrives. A wingless, voiceless Gabriel, can’t promise solace only lead leaving at roadside, blind to the other sun. Their false dawn was beautiful,The arch-addict Michael, fallen in his original sin, trading his sword for the syringe. The internal demon is the price many pay for fighting their devil. And as they slip into that false dawn, some are left to wonder: Is it strength, or surrender? It’s nice to think, That could never be me.
Oh how little faith u have This is you for a few missed steps You for that truma, but it’s ok u can see the sun . Is it the dawn , or the dusk. Bright or the dark. Harder to see on the choppy sea. My dreams use to reflect on the still water

— The End —