Poem: "The ruins of my youth" by Steven Michael Pape

The ruins of my youth

By Steven Michael Pape 

The ruins of my youth,

The wandering eyes of pity,

Smoky rooms, endorphins,

The darkness of the City.

The wreckless in our nature,

That we all seem to explore,

Searching for the answer,

Through every open door.

And past the Midnight hour,

As things are seeming frightful,

We're all singing in a loud voice,

An early morning recital.

A cacophony of laughter,

Alcohol drug, induced,

Behind our glassy eyes,

We're now speaking the truth.