On The Soles Of My Tired Feet

The pain of cold hard pavements
burn the soles of my tired feet,
as I walk through dreary streets
vandalized by thoughts of how
incomplete my life is



Hookers chant my name, boasting
faces of past mistakes as I
enter towns where smiles have
dried up like the sick on the roads.
And I'm left hoping for something more



Kids on bikes with happy faces
remind me of when cares were obsolete.
So many agonizing wasted years
languishing in avenues of shit.
Those no hope journeys have taken
their toll on the soles of my tired feet.