Well lit familiar alleys

A poem about the bright lights of the future.

There are the shiny bright city lights
That show me the way to the future
But in these millions of shimmering lights
I can't see the beacon to find my way through life

And the shining bright city lights
Leave nothing in beautiful mysterious darkness
No alley hidden
No street corner unexplored
Nothing left to find
Nothing left to see
Except the lights
And the people who gather in hordes like desperate pale moths around them.

And now that I'm not in the dark
I can't see the stars
I can't think of anything, feel anything, know anything
There is nothing to find except well lit familiar alleys.