Street Dreams

They all got trapped in concrete wombs,
stuck in their childhood clothes
like stop signs in the street

unable to flip their time, rolling
over dead, unable to stand
on their own two feet

what a failed life, mother’s 
heads still hanging down low basking
their necks in the Father’s shame

dead corpses lay stale on benches,
while others lay lifeless
on top of hop scotch games

hot peas and butter please, 
they hope to feast, but
only in their dreams

got the sandman running crazy
at night delivering fresh nightmares
to hungry men, just follow the steam

amoungst them, the next
generation laugh and play
in hoods of a ghost town

while two generations before,
who lived and learned look
from their windows and frown

One thought on “Street Dreams

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