Streets

Walking the streets of the barrio;
No footsteps at my heels,
There are no other hours
Than those which the city steals,

And through the clotheslines swaying
And the screams off balconies,
Carried through the alleys
On a nonexistent breeze

Come the spirits of the streetbound,
And every one's a friend,
But I never even knew them,
But this oneness, they can mend,

There is no greater loneliness
Than that which is a crowd,
But the fado tells the stories
Of our heartbreaks all aloud,

And even though I swore I'd never
Be so much alone,
The streets and all their sorrows
Is my blood, the stones my bone,

Every moment is a lifetime
That I know I won't get back,
Until the shakes of Judgement Day
Makes kingdoms quake and crack,

And so they walk the roads with empty
Hands and dirty feet,
And so the city's earthen heart
Is drumming out their beat.

Reviews

[A. Smith]

Very deep had to read it a few times though great work.

[Janne Varvára Seem]

Thank you very much!