Parkdale poet
Roams deserted streets
In the midnight hour
Searching for lonely souls
Stealing a minute or two
To penetrate the heart
The howling moon
Now beckoning
Monstrous black walls
Stained with dried blood
And graffiti
Art for poet
Moon’s searchlight
Casting shadows
Spirits unknown
Souls deserting
Stealthily he walks
Them to their grave home
And shows the secret
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