Version 1.2
The ghosts of little boys walk down the street
suited, tied and matching in their
workaday formality,
their faces lost to drudgery and
daily apathy.
While others age too fast, some remain
like chewing-gum children, stretched
around adult responsibilities,
their laughter lost in those cold days
that dwindle to empty evenings
and never end.
for this is the way that beauty goes,
and nobody notices.
Version 2.0
the ghosts of little boys walk down the street
suited, tied and matching in their
workaday formality.
like chewing-gum children, stretched
around adult responsibilities,
they lose their laughter those cold days
and work so hard for this: to blush unseen,
to dwindle to a quiet grave.
for this is the way that beauty goes,
and nobody notices.
Points: 890
Reviews: 105
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