The Sweetest Prostitutes

2AM boulevards
Bathe me in lonely headlights.
My soul is broken
Like the crumbling pavement
Beneath my feet.

Tonight, the homeless
Are hidden out of sight
And the sweetest prostitutes
Have found their johns.

There is nothing left but me
Wandering the same streets
That grew weary of me
Long ago.

Perhaps, I will fall asleep
In a hopeful cemetery
And dream about a time
When I was still alive.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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