TRAMPING THE STREETS

TRAMPING THE STREETS

These streets that have not been paved with gold

These streets are so old

These streets are so, so cold

The weather beaten sidewalks

Covered in moss, grass, so crass

These sidewalks with dust and mistrust

Passer byes with no eyes

Their heads bowed down with deep, deep frowns

They are on their phones, calling their homes

Warm and snug, without the bugs

The traffic seems endless, relentless

Not a quiet spot to slot to plot, oh the forgot!

The forgotten, begotten

Those trample these pavements

Day and night

Night and day

Looking for shelter in a world that is like a skelter

Round and round

Twisting and turning

Ending up in a ramshackle

Derelict

Tumbledown shed

Is this the life to be led?

Surely there is a better life instead?

Their worn out faces

Societies erase

They know their places

Scratching out an existence

With a nickel or a dime

In all the streets grime, crime

Is this life paved with splendours?

Surely it does not!

It meanders, ganders and wonders

Just like these wondrous, not so glamorous

Pavement streets

© Teresa Joseph Franklin

10^th June 2013

All Rights Reserved