Cruised another broken hearted, rainy night.
Taking a long look at the wrong end of right,
Silent stalking shadows of the mean and angry,
All the crusty urchins chewing on hard candy.
Cruel mean streets offer very little redemption.
The street dealers trying to make a connection.
A rhythm to the traffic in four frenzied lanes.
Winding through the city, a serpent in the rain,
An open festering wound of a blackened race,
Terrible torn flesh of those left in disgrace,
Trusted trackers of fallen victim's fated felons,
Flocks of corporate vultures with bloody talons,
Blinded by the brilliance of a neon light.
Sent toward a destination already out of sight.
Fleeing frightened, flame engulfed, madmen,
Never to tell the tale of where they have been,
We cannot pretend we don't see what is wrong.
For all of us have played our part far too long.
A blackened race yearns the warmth of the light.
As broken hearts find their way through the night;
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