Dead Streets Poem by Yoosaph Aayala

Dead Streets



Hey,
I turned back on tiptoe
Nobody looks at me
Except a man dead
Lying on the street-
I walked past in haste
To the errand not to waste.

Holla,
I looked aside
Nothing except a pavement
A decayed body
once a mortal life
clasped across the concrete
Time is running apart
I move fast to my aim.

Hello,
Yes, tell me, I say.
Eyes bulged, I bent down
No, I can spot empty sidewalk
Languishing therein a corpse
Bury me fast....
who speaks?
Hooded ears: no voice.

Trip aside, let me leave
Hold on, I get on to the ankle
Caught by an arm cold,
And Lifeless,
I fall, save me, leave me.

No, you're not alone
I cannot yell or walk
Because I am not live
We are on the street
Muddled flesh, flown souls
None can cover us all
we are not live, we are not....

Tuesday, April 7, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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