At Play In the Devil's Playground
Daylight rises,
filthy rags, ' in the corner', of my room.
I smell a stench in the air.
What has become of me.
thinking back of yesteryears.
Used to be a time when i was young.
living fast and free.
Times are a changing.
those golden years long gone.
Death has a way of dragging you downtown. Excuse me now, the devil has called me to play in his playground.
Darkness falls.
Sirens blare, helicopters overhead.
I pull my hoody up.
Is a very chilly night in the devils playground.
Copyright © Ambrose Howard | Year Posted 2017
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