Hazel Nut


Along the streets of Paris


As twilight diminishes the day’s hope,
The street lights beep alarm,
The crowds throng the rushing pavements,
Cold winds chilling their strawberry cheeks,
The traffic horns pierce the strained ears,
Pedestrians brush past,
Their cigars smoking up desires,
The church bells cry reassurance,
As I run through the streets of Paris,
Alone,
Aching for the pillow,
Yet dreading,
A night of broken dreams.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Edited: Saturday, March 19, 2011

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