walking all over those weak
worn out gum drops below us
wearing the world on our feet
while the adicts steal purses
work the street for needles
wipe a swab over their forarms
wondering when the next cop
whacks them over the head
when we stand aside approving
wishful thinking we may as well
wallow in the puddles of blood
washed out of prisons filled
with our neighbours our friends
who we should have loved but
we turned our backs while they
wandered in alleys afraid to sleep
waking in puddles of urine and shit
what the hell happened
where did we go
wrong?
Colin and Co.
