A tenement, a dirty street, walked upon by shoulder's feet, inside its lawn, so complete, watched by a shivering sun.

Old eyes, my small child's face, watching as the shadows race Through walls and cracks but leave no trace, in daylight's brightness shine The days of pearly spencer, on the races of old drugs Nose pressed hard on frosted glass Gazing as the swollen paths Unconcrete fields by grown, no grass Stumbles blindly on Iron trees smother the air with a ring.

They stand and stare, your eyes can either no longer care where the rest has gone.