The city
Widows in streets looking for hope
hungry pigs in the mudd
begging for a cent
the smell of their cunts
like scattered beer
smoke on the air
drunken bumps outside the tavern
old couples dancing through the midnight
bitches gathering in whorehouses
celebrating days of lust
people obbeying and believing for a change
scumbags giving speeches
spiting venom like wild cobras
the crowd admiring the raw show
couples adoring themselves in dark corners
reflection of the moon above them
hearts crying and broken souls
like glass scattered
tears falling down
filling a glass of wine
king and queen drinking of it.



