On a desolate street in winter
Lays forgotten, so cold to the core
Where imagination takes hold
A lonely night waits
It is in the fear of things not seen
Where we lose hope in mankind
All the trouble that life throws
Like looking back when in retreat
As the owl sings in the night
Seeking out its prey
Gliding in one fowl swoop
And the mouse was unaware of
Its morbid fate
One cold night in winter.
Sometimes I like to write. 