PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

lining their pockets with rumor
they ramble out into the night
discarding as they go
any former memories of sunshine
in their still growing minds
as they use to play so innocently
as children in the day's waning light
for now the darkness is their turf
the eerie howling of the wind
at their shirked curfew
they sneer and smirk
laughing from the shadows cast
by the light of sodium
while meddlesome neighbors
unkknowingly sleep
they choose themselves to
roughhouse and lurk
laughing as they loudly shuffle
and sneak
out like baby demons looking for
a fight
along trash can lined alleyways
searching for twisted illusive
ideals of fun
gradually becoming as the hour
deepens
a herd of disenchanted
delinquent youth
building courage to unleash their aim
that of destroying many an
urban block for no real apparent
reason framing truth
other than meanness, boredom ,
mischief and greed
they only later came to be known as
the thrice nightly terror that befell London
that one particular weekend
not so long ago.....................
(Sept 9, 2011 208pm)