night time howls past the alleyway
standing by an open door
blue eyes pink flesh taut against
the guitar strings
the alleyway becomes our heaven
a kiss passionate steams
hiked up sleeves
and then its finished
memories of her in that open door
and then it was gone
Note: The Book of Proverbs warns us of those alleyways. Our eyes land, they fall and destruction is soon to follow.
I realize that poetry can show the dark corners where I used to live, but hopefully it can serve as a warning as well.
Those alleys, those streets lead to despair. Ask anyone on East Hastings what life is like. Most will say it is a life without hope.
I thank The Lord that I have been called out of the streets. If you are in a place that has no hope, call on Jesus.