"City Streets, Crimson Schemes"

Meet the poet: who aches in words and metaphors.

The lover: who tries to chase and somehow still stumbles.

and the boy: who walks in thin ice . . . trying to escape life's heinous crimes.

Nightingale, let your luminous light —

breed my wandering soul,

the cunning lampposts of this urban life.

Allow me to envelope my tears to a poignant cry.

The poet talks beyond what he feels around,

but the lover spoke honestly and deeply with his heart,

and this boy tries to say the things he want;

Only to write them in city streets that crimson his schemes.