Following John Winston
It’s window shopping for second hand shirts,
And short date bargains dictating the meals
As composing-words barely meet the rent.
A lipstick smile conceals the hidden hurts
As no one can ever know how she feels
Through unwelcoming streets she walks back home
Her mind still churning stories to invent,
Another dark thinking to love converts
Ignoring the fights and the drug den deals
The modern life invades without consent
Yet love walks where’er she chooses to roam
In dirty back streets or by golden pond
As fingers through her chestnut tendrils comb
So the poet has learned to see beyond.
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