Does not cross their minds.
Violent streets,
Keeps them heated.
Too many together…
They can’t shut up!
Pilots careening,
To crash land into gutters.
They have not learned to stop,
Uttering sounds!
To listen.
To someone…
Claiming to have authority!
Shooting themselves in the foot.
Booting themselves happily…
To be marked by soot and grim.
All their mindless lives!
Finding it fun and merriment,
To disturb the peace.
All hours of the night!
When these beasts should be at home sleeping…
Tied and strapped to their beds!
‘Harold…
That’s very poetic.
But we are not their parents!
And you are only making matters worse,
By staring at them through the window! ‘