Laying Down On The Sidewalk

I lay down on the sidewalk, counting cracks like constellations,

City hum above me, a slow and honest conversation.

Neon breathes in rhythm with the pulse beneath my ribs,

Streetlight paints my shadow where the evening softly lives.

There’s a paper cup of moonlight folded in my palm,

Taxi horns like distant drums, a lullaby of calm.

You said the world keeps moving, but tonight it’s standing still,

I trace the map of nowhere with a heartbeat and a will.

Chorus

Laying down on the sidewalk, letting gravity decide,

Which pieces of the day to keep and which to leave behind.

Laying down on the sidewalk, the sky a borrowed coat,

I fold my hands around the quiet and I learn to float.

Sidewalk saints in sneakers pass with stories in their eyes,

A child chases fireflies that wink like tiny lies.

Graffiti promises the future in a language made of paint,

I read it like a prayer and find the edges of restraint.

Bridge

If the pavement holds my secrets, let it keep them warm,

If the city sings of sorrow, let it teach me how to form

A softer kind of courage, a small and steady flame,

That turns the ache of wanting into something with a name.

Chorus

Laying down on the sidewalk, letting gravity decide,

Which pieces of the day to keep and which to leave behind.

Laying down on the sidewalk, the sky a borrowed coat,

I fold my hands around the quiet and I learn to float.

Outro

When morning comes, I’ll stand and shake the night away,

But for now I’m anchored to the street where dreams can stay.

Laying down on the sidewalk, I find the world’s slow rhyme—

A moment held between two breaths, a pause inside of time.