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