Its Late. Poem by Phats Love

It's late
The air outside is heavy
The termites flying around

Street lights.
The uncomfortable sleep
The fan blowing humid air

Getting sticky from the heat,
Awaken from slumber
And he's not by my side

I shut my eyes
About to cry
Only to awaken again

To a kiss on the temple
A whisper to say he's home safe
Nudges me over

I hear him say get back to sleep
You work in a few hours
You don't want to be late.

The heartaches of life on the streets
The men that we love who live life dangerously
A daily battle of strength to cope
With the life