Hands in my pocket, I’m off on a lonely stroll,
Accompanied only by the whims of my heart, and the voice of my soul;
The thoughts, they twirl and fog my mind,
As I tread forward, I leave them all behind;
A flickering streetlight, struggling to stay,
Although clouded by leaves, fights to light my way;
The asphalt rests in the calm of the night,
Glinting shyly in the tangerine light;
These streets bring about a tranquil mood,
Offering a cordial welcome, not once they’re rude.
And if I maintain quite, I think I hear,
The innocent stories of my yesteryear;
The streets on which I laughed and played,
Hold sweet memories that never fade.
I’m lost in a world that seems so pure,
A little child again; with curiosity galore.
I snap back to reality, I heave a loud sigh,
I take a deep breath and look up at the sky;
A snowball in pitch black, the moon shines bright,
I wonder if it knows that it’s not its own light;
It scans the ethereal sky; but not a single star it finds,
Least it knows; it’s a polluted world, with polluted minds.