These streets. <br />These streets, are wet, <br />stern with the gloss of grey cement. <br /> <br />Mean to say. <br />The sly grace of those <br />who walk them <br />with unconsidered pace <br />and talk them - <br />glittering in the askance light <br />and brimming dark. <br /> <br />In their sad hoorahs <br />in sad bars <br />they are <br />still <br />somebody. <br />For somebody is everyone <br />in these glowing streets, <br />these mean-time streets. <br /> <br />Hello and cheerio. <br /> <br />And, someday - <br />someday <br />please say <br />these streets are <br />ours. <br /> <br />Ours for the while, <br />me and you.<br /><br />James Mills<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/so-times/
