Tragedy Of A Game.

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Those tall man-made trees with glittering lights stood,
Many like a living monument of the civilized world,
Concrete and steel, wood and pipes all held together,
In them like birds in real trees lived, many human souls.

Headlights joined street lights and shown a path so clear,
As slowly moved the car through the wilderness of the smart,
Unfolded were empty streets and silent alleys all haunting,
A dark spot for the unloved to play hide and seek.

Games of many kinds lovers play, games of many hearts too,
Love of purity and sanctity an old-times wonder and play,
Sat back on my seat as cityscapes browsed past my drive,
Never learned, never played games of emotions and love,

And as nightly cold wrapped his dark grip on those trees,
I prayed for miles I drove back home to find peace,
I spoke to shadows who greeted me with unseen smiles,
As sleep gnawed my mind I said, “Still love you Little Boss.”.

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Photo by Jonathan Cooper on Unsplash

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