deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Loner

Cold cobbled streets
strewn with cigarettes
and warm spit.

Vacant minds
near closing time,
sipping coffee
in twilight.

The sweet smell
of warm pastry
makes me hunger,
for a woman.

The days retreat
into cloudy memories,
like virgin land,
untouched forever.
Author's Note
I feel like I'm fading away.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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