I've walked many late night walks.
I've talked many late night talks.
I've watched the sun drop,
and the people fall.
Their struggle like mine.
Their monotony refreshingly tired.
Their chaos a sign --
entropy is alive and well.
Their pain is salve to blisters,
cracking and dry.
Their frustration, a relief.
Their stumbling words --
a little too deep.
Their patience enfolds.
Their perspiration consoles.
Their broken pieces pump a heart.
Their meandering is a straight shot.
Their ***** cleans shoes
Their malice graces you
Their cringe softens faces.
Their flooding tears wash it.
Their pride, a humility.
Their turbulence, a gliding
Their purposelessness, a divine right.
Their flounder, a vibe.
Their past, a present.
Their fans, a famous.
Their selfish, a gracious.
Their falling, a falling up.
Their pretend, a realization
Their sadness, a joy.
Their stumble, a freeform.
Their tired energy.
Their weakness, a strength.
Their plain, an eclectic.
Their dull, an electric.
Their screen, a seeing.
Their absorption, a being.
Their terror, a bravery.
Their whining, a safety.
Their fear, a fearlessness.
Their rock bottom, a peak.
Their peasant, a princess.
Their settle, a refusal.
Their stiff, a flexability.
Their tough, an ingenuity.
Their pale, an ivory.
Their hail, a haloing.
Their *****, a clean.
Their fortune, a fiend.
Their silver, a gold.
Their waste, a sold.
Their clutter, a space.
Their trouble keeping pace.
