The sun is still the same
That coward of a sun
Who hides behind its’ name
Who lurks behind grey clouds
While teasing from above
Its’ warmth so insincere
Its’ light so void of love
Its silly, shallow shine
Blinds me as I raise my head
And stare at its face
I force myself to smile
The Sun smiles coyly back
And blinded I look down
And think about my son
And try to keep it cool
And there far away
I know things are the same
Cars, kids and shabby trees
Façades of buildings, some ornate
Their dirty old courtyards
And smell of garbage, rot
Of strangers’ lives long lost
Of cursed unhappy fate
Discarded ice cream wrapper
A pool of urine in the corner
Abandoned doll, its blond head cracked open
(There are no brains inside)
Pigeons, those pesky rats with wings
Through a ground-floor window
An old wrinkled face stares at you
Amidst unneeded things
The window glass is dirty
A napping lazy cat
More trash and bottle caps
A bunch of kids run by
I leisurely walk
I envy them a lot
The sun is still above
Façades, inner courtyards, kids, cars
Discarded ice cream wrappers Discarded discount love
Aged whores and seedy bars
Of the most disreputable fame
It’s all the same but you’re not here
You’d never know that all is still the same