4am

staggering fistfights with silver streetlights
rainwater drenches the pavement
monday night in sunday's best
bottles raised, drained, broken
boxing ghosts on streetcorners
listening to the whispers within the bricks of a building
the muffled lives and abandoned warehouse cries
a glimpse of the future within a stormdrain
clip my wings
in this broken city
i shall fly
no more