Gerard knows that nothing is perfect. A bit of frerard. One-shot.
I walked down the quiet street,
lamps alluminating the worn sidewalk.
From millions of feet once falling against the pavement,
some quick to arrive home to what played
out to be a perfect home and loving family
and others who didn't have homes.
My leather jacket protected me
from the bitter cold Jersey air,
surrounding a sleeping city
in unforgiving blankets of snow.
The road is quiet but I know
that once day light collapses
over the ratty apartments
it will be bustling with people.
Through curtains of a lit room
on a third floor of an old building
a lonely girl dressed to kill
sits on the empty love seat,
waiting for him to arrive.
But he never will.
And from somewhere in the distance
sirens blare in a rush.
Undoubtedly carrying an innocent on a stretcher.
And a sobbing brother at their side.
While from across the street
a married woman cries herself to sleep
while her husband is wasted at the clubs.
And in an office a man is fired
from the night shift from the last job
he will ever have,
because they've found him with his lover in the city,
who is a man.
And as I approach an average house
with what has always seemed to be an
average family a child cries,
and hides in the corner of his room.
Because mommy is screaming in pain
and daddy is yelling with rage.
Down a dark alley a lanky bearded man
with tangled hair sings to himself a song of hope,
while he searches the garbage bins for leftovers.
In the park a man strums his guitar with such talent,
but no one will hear.
No one ever does,
because he's not what his parents wanted.
In a warm bed a teacher and his student
say their goodbyes,
because they know they can't continue this.
A forbidden love that will never recover.
All the while a college student
tries her best to study while
the rest party next door,
but there's never enough time,
and never enough support.
I kicked the snow with my boots
watching it fly up and flutter back down.
And somewhere along the way I look up and see
the sillouhettes of a man and a woman arguing.
Because the bills haven't been payed in months
and handling more than four jobs is just too much.
A man sits in a circle with strangers.
Strangers who don't want to be addicted anymore.
But they're strangers without hope.
And then there is the family gathered in the waiting room,
and as much as they want to believe it's not true,
they all know the cancer has eaten her away,
not to mention the long earsplitting beep
coming from the monitor hooked to her lifeless body.
A funeral will be planned.
A teenage girl,
just making it through has lost everything.
And she knows it the second she's dragged
into the darkness by a group of men.
And a man is suspended from the roof by a rope,
cutting off his oxegyn supply.
And ending his misery.
I reach the end of the street and grasp the cold metal knob,
twisting it and letting the door fall open.
I stepped inside and pulled it closed behind me.
I walked into the kitchen and shrugged off my jacket,
laying it on a stool.
While my husband turns and looks me in the eye.
His perfect hazels staring straight into me.
And Frank says,
"I love you."
And I cherish every last flick
of his tounge and click of his teeth,
the harmony in his voice and the warmness in the emotion.
Because I know our time is almost up.