It’s after midnight and the streets all look the same again…

It’s after midnight, and the streets all look the same again…
a cold wind whips around my building, bringing a chill
to the skin of the man who calls my alley home
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror
and wonder why I’ve been given enough grace
to live for this long
my heart sinks deep into my chest
a heaviness weighs on me that I cannot shake
I grab my coat and head outside…

It’s after 1, and the streets all look the same again…
the wind greets my face as I open the door
there is a stillness in the air that is difficult to describe
a silence that surrounds my soul as I walk
through abandoned parks and sidewalks
fallen leaves do not even make noise
when I step on them
I am alone

It’s after 3, and the streets all look the same again..
I find myself down the same destructive paths
increasing the distance from anyone who cares
it is no mystery, though, as to how I got here
a quick glance into my eyes could tell many stories
to discourage even the most hopeful
surely there must be someplace I could go for comfort

It’s after 6, and the streets all look the same again…
the light of day seeks to make itself known to all
even attempting to brighten ny darkened existence
and, somehow, for a brief moment, my heart remembers
not all hope is lost in this world
that someone desires my presence at his table
that grace and love are available even for me
if I choose to seek it from him
a new day awaits my choice to move
where will I go?