Oh street, what memories you evoke in me
Stories that would better remain hidden in the night
Is it just you or are all streets the same way mysterious with
their tales, once the heavens bring forth the night
Will there be any victims today? Someone you catch unawares?
Someone who thinks he can preserve his secrets at night
Or would it be a lover pray tell, one who kisses his muse
Tries to hold her before she escapes; afraid of the descending night
You light up the lamppost, as if to hide the fears that
you invoke, so shamelessly taking advantage of my beautiful night
And here you come again, a lonely existence, a place
That is more so because of the memories, that come with night
The writer writes an uneasy poetry, by the window in effort
to conceal his unhappiness and he shall be crying this night
The adulterer opens his window in a conqueror’s stance, happy
that he has found a meaning in his life; the women he keeps for a night
Oh! abuser, oh ye scum of the Earth, you look through the window
And comment on how peaceful relationships are for you at night
And the dogs howls in earnest, trying to make sense
The street listens, as the neighbourhood falls quiet; another night