Listen to the night children make music!
Children of dust, discarded cry harshly
Treading dusked streets, walking dead girl's tears prick
But never fall: don't water cruelty!
Sprung from the dark tombs of county jail 6,
Back to corners of Mission and Market,
Back up to tents of Tenderloin to mix
Medicine wrapped in sympathy blankets.
Listen to the night children make music!
Sirens, screams, sighs, drums, gunshots compete with
Violence drones as fetid air hangs thickly -
Fog and Fentanyl smothers quiet breath
The street sucks the life blood from cold blue veins:
Streets fall poisoned by that on which they feed.
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A lot of simile, but a lot of truth and so sad.
Thank you so much.