Poem: "Street scene" by Steven Michael Pape

Street scene
©® Steven Michael Pape 2022

Graffiti tags, faded, diluted,
Washed by the rain,
Dirty, polluted.
People scrape ice,
From car windscreens,
And shake their heads,
Of forgotten dreams.
The workers don't walk,
But just amble along,
Their ears are full,
Of musical song,
To drown out the noise,
That their brain replays,
Another shift, another day.
Dogs are walked,
At this ungodly time,
Many pavements,
And hills to climb.
Buses roll past,
All masks and eyes,
Hiding the mouths,
And the yawns demise.
The shops are open,
Selling red top rags,
Spewing their lies,
Into recycling bags.
The Mornings cold,
And black as tar,
The journeys endless,
It seems too far.
But all of us,
Still with hopes and dreams,
A tired collective,
Walking this street scene.