wedged between the crooked footpaths,
Shadows floating over roads of tar,
revealing the fallen glittering stars.
The October chill shrivels my rod,
as the frost builds slowly in my brain,
Engines roar against the emerald beams,
for the devils torch cometh quick.
Drunken fools outnumber the trees,
and girls whose virginities are tossed over the bridge,
Lay in regrets ceaseless embrace,
with hearts becoming bare as their mothers wombs.
Wandering alone down Lower ford street,
I wonder what next it is I shall see.
Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2016
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