Crack Hotel

City life at its worst.

       Crack Hotel
                      Walking home from work,midnight chimes from a tower.
                      The hotel looms in its dark crannies, city full of noise.
                      Death oozes onto the street like the fog of a pungent swamp.
                      Sounds of screaming and babies crying are silenced by the pitch of
                      distant sirens .
                      Dog barks sharply at strangers passing by.
                      Ahhhhh but for the Grace of God live I .
                      W****s of many shades unfolding, line the bushes that hide the walls,
                      calling, calling, calling, calling one and all.
                      Hand on my knife and the shuffle of my feet,
                      briskly walking past  rotten pieces of meat.
                      Trying to avoid the deadly creases of the street.
                      Vultures perched on the balcony ,  searching for the dead.
                      Gun shots echo far and close the vultures are always fed .
                      Crack is the Reaper, lost souls are its harvest bounty .
                      Scooting by not noticed, successfully home from work .
       
                      

Reviews

[Miles Wilburn]

I like this, its dark and looming, and dreadful, and it keeps you wanting to read further!

[Dove]

Wow this piece is very well written. Crack is like a monster and it never wants to release his victims. Great Job!

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

You have penned this well. Crack is the demon that possesses souls and does not want to let go....