Alleyways. from Poems 006 by Pierrot Thornton

Dingy alleyways line my sight,
their interiors receive not a drop of light,
This is where I find myself at night,
where right is wrong and wrong is right.

Here one can get low like a torpedo or high as a kite,
there is guaranteed action whether that be love or a fight,
In here one may be presented with a fortune or a fright,
In this absence of brightness, I find it easiest to write.

The recluse there, he sits alone.
For he has seen everything on which the light has shone.
Thus, he turns to the darkness,
the rooms marked by nothing but starkness.

His mind can fire off without an interruption,
not hindered by consumption's corruption,
Free to flee or submerge into the sea,
Bogged down by nothing, he can be thee!

• Alleyways
• Spoken Word
• poems
• poetry
• Caldwell