lowerclass
black cobbled stones wet to touch, gleaming green in the dark moist street gutters,
refelcting my face, i see these stones have more use than i. these dark allyway streets
filled with the blackness of human nature, skum, do i dwell in peace? Left to the night
the faint laughter from a horse drawn carrige can be hurd. oh what would i be to those joyful blue eyes,
those smiling white teeth, their empty harts... no. My pockets are lined with dust, my teeth are yellow
my cloths are torn, my eyes are closed.
Walking walking the busy main street, shoved aside, out the way! your kind are not welcome here...
my voice echoes upon death ears...they cannot see me.
left in the dark, left to my own, can a man not be seen as a man? or do the rags upon his body make him his own?
turning in the tide, the many voices become one loud noise, no hand will reach for me if i drown...
these gutters take away the waste, the unwanted. if only they would take me...
Unknown "JaY" Serene
- 16 years, 9 months, 1 day ago