Street poetry

The streets kept coming and coming and coming through his tracks

And every scene he spied was all the same

He kept running and running and running and never looked back

He never realised how far he came

And it didn't matter that the latter part hadn't bothered him

Rather all the sadness that followed him as if it was a ball and chain

It was a long await, his posture had changed fraught with his fault and his anger

Until he wouldn't respond when they called his name

It was all part of the game, it started as a play to get ends

It left him with the breath of debt and less friends

And yet he never questioned where the quest went

And when dissenters didn't deem him special

He did his best to impress them and this led to regrets then

Still he was deadset on success and distress

He only expressed through a sent text

Addressed to anyone he hadn't met yet

The tires peeled on desire's wheels

Again he said, "I can feel...

The distance


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