Discontent

Do you know sometimes I do not sleep And neither do I weep But from an ambiguous place peep At things we love but cannot keep. You were my shooting star On you all my wishes like a fountained dime Spun, and shun, and shimmered and charred Away. You treated love like a crime. Why were you so afraid? You wrung My innocense like a neck until I screamed For breath. A star fallen among The garbage of the city street, beamed Still through the windows of memory. Night is a time when cities have no mercy; Night is the time when I want again To run with you cursing at the rain.