Neon Signs….

Neon signs and shady lanes,
Money exchanging hands,
Through bodies of remorse,
Empty stomachs, pale eyes,
The Mistress of inebriety,
Dancing to the tunes of helplessness,
Addiction, hopes or desire of clear skies,
Its the streets like these that breeds the sewage,
The opulent sometimes like to think so,
As the rotting sight of flesh and skin disgusts them,
For they have hearts of glass,
That break on sights of the Sun rising over Mars,
And their veins burst with blood green,
The days are merciful to these streets,
As light brings them hope,
Shuns away despair and the gobbling eyes,
For no one wants to be recognised in places such as these,
Love springs as the neon signs turn off,
And the routine, the one accepted starts,
Driver, receptionist or a student struggling to study,
Their sky is often red,
Chewed, mulched and spewn on streets like these,
They breathe the same air,
Sometimes eat the food as ours,
Blue collar or a collar white,
Their money is often tainted,
Or it appears so,
The night as it comes again to these streets,
Dressed in make-up bad,
Clothes cheap,
They venture to the streets,
As the neon signs light their way,
And sobriety shies away…..