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