Good Night Pretoria

The sun kneels to kiss the skyscrapers The Darkness floats above like clouds And those homeless become accidental campers Setting their plastic beds on the cold floors These black concrete rivers Flood with moving lights And its banks are swarmed With men who’s faces lulled Locked in deep thought As the night ages once more Laddies emerge from the Corners of the streets Clothed with nothing but desperation and despair As they seek an audience with men of matrimony, They sway their hips fishing them to their cause Good night Pretoria, the city of dreams.