Walks a Man

Walks a man, down a cold November street
Gun at his hip, bouncing to his beat
Bullets swell with the joy of release
Will it be this man who breaks the peace?

A baby cries and a mother is torn
She rethinks the oath that she has sworn
She remembers the man for whom she mourns
“One day my child will take his true form”

A drunk sits and whispers through his lips
“I never found nothing, that son-of-a-bitch”
If I could only have just one more wish
I wouldn’t have wasted it being an addict

A man sleeps in his bed alone
He clenches his fist to leave his plateau
“It never changes, I’ll never grow old”
Pulling up his blankets, his feet are exposed

Three boys squat, playing their jacks
“It’s cold out fellas, toss me the pack”
The boy lights up, and takes his chance
He collects his cool, and holds the winner stance

The man grins and fingers his holster
Bullets across his chest like a western poster
Tilts his hat and squints his eyes
“Tonight is the night, when nobody dies”

Two lovers embrace in a bed of straw
In their eyes, they were made without flaws
They never speak, for its comfortable together
Their trust turns this bed of straw,

Into a bed of feathers