In the writhing streets

the children play

in bare feet and move with

the wisdom of the night.

 

And beyond the streets

they have no world,

for this is all there is

from birth to death.

 

In the streets the strong survive

and run the obstacle course of

guns and gangs that

own the streets and all there in.

 

The ragged children go

out to play,

go out to play

in the moonlit streets,

go out to play

in the dirty lanes

with the rubbish

that is their destiny.

 

9/2/2017