Hidden hours

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a short poem. Its about hanging around the streets as a youngster and being up all night long with your close friends.

Submitted: March 25, 2014

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Submitted: March 25, 2014

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Under orange street lights

Shadows of hoodies pass
Walking through cold concrete 
Ice cube toes and bitter feet.
Dark with sunlight to arrive 
Blackness blues colours of sky's 
Birds tweet in warm nest
Vision green, feeling grimness
6:30 AM the birds twitter again
Sounds of vehicles drive past the ears
More and more change of gears
Shops getting ready to open
Dogs sniffing the air pollution.
Exhausted heading for home
Those hidden hours blown 
Life in a grey gloomy dome 
My brothers are not alone.


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