A bench, aged and desolate
The street lamps flicker
The conversations dwindle
Loved ones call us
Tell us to come home
The dogs on the street lay restless
The leaves rustle
While the children sleep
Her eyes dart across the street
A lone, familiar figure looks up
Keen, pleading for forgiveness
There’s a sound in the distance
And the tires squeal
Lecherous eyes with minds astray
Contempt, dislike and mockery
Kisses in the air
Adolescence and its epoch
Around the bend
Around our heads
Childhood games
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