Like Every Other Street
Just anouther street in the city
all the occupents hide behind their curtains
all hid away and render themselves invisable
making no contact
but always poking through with their nose.
silence fills the street most nights
only early morning can you hear the children play
and mid afternoon when the schools close
you can hear them running up and down the road.
Some nights teenagers occupy the corner
smash bottles on the road
and kick the gates of the homes
and maybe throw a stone or two
at some bodies car window.
A police siren sometimes fills the weekend air
a helicopter hangs up high
poking it's light through the doors
and the screech of car tires around the bend
joy riders ride away in the night air.
Drunks from the local bar
start to make their way home
passing down this street
singing songs into the night sky
waking everybody else up
as they make there way back home.
Its just like any other street in the city
full of poeple who hide behind windows
drive crazy through the streets
shine lights through the doors
play up and down the street
and sings songs into the night.
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Comments about this poem (Like Every Other Street by Steven Harris )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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