CAMELOT FANTASIES

Bitter Cold chills the Bones
Eyes tearing
Freezing as it trickles down ones face
Skin hardens for it is almost like stones
Stark Bareness of the streets
Where is the human race?
Huddled are the homeless over subway vents to garner some warmth
Briskly walking passers by deign to look
In fear of that eye connection
They look away
Fear of the guilt
That might hook
Them in
Slightly
On this frightenly
Brisk Cold Night
Where the lonely
Are alone
Braving
Stone cold
Feeling scared, frail and Old