There’s a preacher on the corner with a bottle in a bag
He’s quoting from the paper like it’s scripture that he had
He says, “Don’t trust the water when it’s running too clean—
What’s honest can hurt you worse than what is mean.”
There’s a boy with a notebook and a habit to chase
He draws perfect little soldiers with no eyes on their face
He said, “If they can’t see the ending, maybe they won’t fight it—
You can march through hell if you don’t recognize it.”
I’ve been walking past the painted lines
Where the city wears its warning signs
Where the gutters spill their morning wine
But nobody seems to care
They all just stare
Like the truth’s too bright to bear
There’s a woman on the bus bench feeding pigeons bread
Whispers names like poems only she’s read
She says, “The streets remember every footstep made—
But the wind’ll wipe your memory like chalk on a grave.”
A kid on a skateboard flies over the curb
He says nothing, just flips me a look, not a word
He’s got holes in his shoes and fire in his frame
Some folks run from nothing just to feel like they came
I’ve been walking past the painted lines
Where the city wears its warning signs
Where the gutters spill their morning wine
But nobody seems to care
They all just stare
Like the truth’s too bright to bear
And I tried to write it down, but the paper just bled
Every sentence collapsed underneath what I said
There’s no anthem for silence, no melody for shame
Just the sound of your footsteps forgetting your name
So I’ll follow these painted lines
Through the alleys, past the warning signs
With my hands in my pockets and my head full of noise
Just another lost voice
In a world that don’t need saving
But begs for a choice
Joshua_Burns