Standing on a pavement grey,
Dark damp Thursday afternoon
Cigarette in trembling hands,
Walking through these shadowed lands.
Neon lights are fading fast,
As echoes haunt the maddening mind.
They think they see, they don’t see at all,
The man who was, that man no more.
Control is gone, the twisted heart,
Unleashed on all who share his pain.
Silence speaks, the truth decays,
No one left to take the blame.
The light grows dim
The end of him
Reah Roberts ©2009