I scurried past the remnants of a dream
And savagely kicked aside the kids born
of lethargic optimism and wasted energy.
I hurried home to my bed
frigidly disregarding the gutters
overflowing with wistful thoughts
trash cans filled with idiotic whimsy.
The soft whispers of fights long past
as well as those waiting to occur
snip viciously at my unwilling heels
sending me swiftly in my way
While the bells toll sweetly and sincerely
the children shriek happily
the colours cry softly
the city chants tiredly
'Closing time. It's closing time.'