Under construction

To feel is to sleep in streets
with newspapers up to necks

Reminding society, global warming
melts the poles of cold hearts

into tears.

It tears from within, from sidewalks
drenched with pee, under bridges
showered in trash

as traffic urges lights to go green,
everyone chases the Green!

But yellow appears in between intersections,
Cars speed up, pedestrians walk,
the red of blood stops everyone.

A hit and run of disarmed limbs
carambole against potholes
besides lampposts

where cameras record disbelief
to policeman trying to do their job.