Nights of emptiness
Have fallen slowly onto depthless
Towns
She hears a breathing silence
From just above the underground
Light these streets with lights, you say?
But all she sees are shells and bones!
Among her dear brothers and sisters
In a corner full of weeping souls
Upon damp cardboards
And plastic and wrapper
Upon the gloom of crestfallen eyes
She passed her pieces of bread and butter
But will this be enough for them to survive?
Sure, their tummies plead for a morsel or more
To bear a day or two to live
But their hearts yearned for a friend; nothing more
Of whom to share an hour with
To light these streets with patience and kindness
To light these streets with true lights of happiness
And for that, she left a glow in their hearts
That'll reach from street to street.
YOU ARE READING
Millennials: The Collection
Short Story"We anticipate not the end of the world, but simply the end of the world we know." Millennial [mil-len-ee-uh l]: a member of an often misunderstood and maligned demographic cohort with a desire to catalyse a positive change in the world. - Based on...
