Without a Door
Footsteps fade where sidewalks end,
stories told in weathered skin.
Cardboard kingdoms, borrowed ground,
a life unseen, without a sound.
The city hums, its lights embrace,
yet shadows slip between its grace.
Hands once held, now pockets bare,
eyes that search, but find no stare.
The wind knows names the world forgets,
whispers woven in regrets.
A resting place beneath the sky—
another night, still asking why.
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