Worn and tired, to the streets they all file
Looking for something to hold on to.
Something to dissolve this crust that’s seized their hearts
Desperate for love they make their way to the streets, Beaten and bruised
Refusing to become calcified by the memories of their past lovers
still hopeful they seize the day and own the night
never stopping to rest, never giving in to the dry and dense feeling.
never acknowledging the reddish-brown within their hearts.
Matching forward like soldiers on a parade
Looking through every window for signs of warmth
Consumed by their thirst for what once was
Gnawed by their want of what used to be.
Rusty hearts claim the streets.
At dawn, at dusk, winter or summer
Their fretful hearts claim the streets.