Street Peace
The little boy at the third door Coils on the cold pavement, Couldn’t let go, or wish for more, Each day has a whip of judgment; Teach lessons his young mind Fears to learn. Memories better buried or left behind Robs his daily earn, Sobs and fruitless day dreams Rudely taken away… A stream of piercing screams Tear down the alleyway – Rears from the darkness a figure Vague and nervous, wanes across The alley with such vigor, A trail of policemen comes into loss. The little boy at the third door Coils on the cold pavement, Couldn’t let go, or wish for more, Now has a night of police judgment. 2009 © J.Ifeme