As I have not trusted

I have not hoped

In the bleak alleyways

And the secondhand streets

Where misery waits

And the turn of your hand

As I have not believed

So I have not seen

The uselessness

The pettiness

And in by the clouds are the sun and the stars

By the walls and the rain

I shall not come to you for tea

As you may come back home with me

Not believing and not seeing the facts

Yapping into our face

Alternate fire

Alternate smoke

I shall not wake

At seven or eight

As all the hours

Are now too late

With the lead weights motionless

I spy with my little eye

You and I my love

You and I

With our backs to each other

Chewing on shadows

Dissecting the lights

That their brightness might be classified

And then emasculated

And finally killed