Thursday, April 22, 2010

In Tangletown

I walk the streets at night.
I am not the boy I was.
The hardness of this place has
crept into the lines of my face.
The rain soaks me but
I am no longer moved to tears.
The shadows are mine,
and the dark corners,
dead ends and alleys.
When people pass me they don't see me;
I am invisible, a piece of trash.
Bothers me not. I've lived here for years.
The stains on my soul are forever.
Forever the streets of

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