Loneliness

On this endless street of noise
where silence and blood jostle thorugh,
sweat and smoke mingle,
debris of lost love still lingers.

I am a "lot of noise" in my head,
horns blaring and myself.
A "lot of smoke" in my lungs I am,
sooty anger and desperation.

A lonely pariah he was.
A silent spec on that street of noise.
His peaceful sleep is what I stole
and since then have stored it
in the lonely alleys of my heart.