poetry by D.e.e.L
the detail in the image is so grand…
a park bench sitting beside a broken street light as a smoker
plays hop-scotch on the desolate street.
an elderly woman in the fourth floor window stairs out
laughing at the smoker’s attempt at hopping on one foot.
buildings surround the unkept park, buildings that are unkept themselves, bricks of brown, black, and green.
the blonde toddler with the blue chalk runs free all alone
creating games of hopscotch for strangers to enjoy.
listen, come here, he says in a calm voice
someone in a hood is selling cigarettes from outside
the closed shop with the boarded windows
he’s dressed identical to the smoker
but isn’t having any fun
hundreds of eyes look out from the building
furthest away from the smoker
staring at the strange man
having fun in the filthy park as he spits smoke
from his chalked lungs
hundreds more watch as the young blonde girl creates more games
she must not know how sad the world is around her
or perhaps she’s the only one truly trying
to make the best of it