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Nighttime isn’t always dull at all

The dark has too many stories to tell

I’ve seen pimps escort the dancers to clubs,

Living high in the fast lane of money

Influential people sneaking out through the back door,

Collars raised, heads bowed

Afraid of what the press might say

About their unholy nights

Nightly routine
Afraid of unholy nights
photo courtesy of Mwalimu dot com (facebook)

I’ve seen deaths in the alleyways

Bodies tossed in the trash

Waiting on pest and bacteria to tamper with evidence

Erasing their existence

I’ve seen beggars lay on the sidewalk

Praying for warmth… And a goodnight’s sleep….

I’ve seen her walking out of the all night chemist

Contemplating the loss of her purity

Was it worth gaining his love?

She doesn’t notice the other on the curb,

Pouring her soul out in noiseless tears

He threatened to abandon her if she didn’t do it,

And she feared the loss of support…

She wonders whether it was justifiable…

She knows her parents would kick her out

And she couldn’t afford the upkeep if she kept it.


I’ve seen the pure bliss of love

 As he took her to dinner-she was wearing his favorite scent-

They’re hoping they’ll last forever…

And I’ve seen the pain of heartbreak

He’s standing in the corner

Waiting for something to numb the pain

They told him he was falling too deep_

Till she took off with all his money,

And a new guy-

All he had left were the bruises in his heart.

There’s another swaying in the park,

Bottle of vodka in a brown paper bag

Too tired to continue,

Too hopeless to hold on

Clinging to the last strings of sanity

I see myself, walking alone

In the company of my thoughts

And the light of the moon

To guide my steps home.

Article courtesy of Ashley

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