People all over the estate,
Are complaining about the new streetlights.
They're meant to be better for the environment,
But people are getting hurt.
They're so much dimmer than the ones before,
Which were dimmer than the ones before that.
These just leave a silver sliver of light,
They don't brighten the street.
But I guess one day we'll get used to them,
Used to the darkness around us,
Slowly, slowly,
Bit by bit,
That blackness will become normal.
Isn't that the way truly bad things happen,
Slowly, slowly,
But by bit?
Tiny steps into the darkness,
A slow fall off the edge.
But if that's true, is love a bad thing?
Perhaps.
YOU ARE READING
Newspaper Cuttings
PoesiaA collage of human life. Each one of us has a story, and each day, just for a moment, they cross, making us characters in someone else's. But are we heroes, or villains? That is up to you. ______________________________________________________ Some...
