By Kevin Shea
Alone among the streetlamps, I recollect my thoughts:
The mishaps of the day, the fights I should have fought.
The darkness surrounds me, but I am not alone;
the child inside me recites fantastic odes
But what are these stories?
I hear they’re nothing but lies.
Just who has concocted these ideas
For I know they are not mine.
The tales of tragedy, the strong courageous knight,
Would they disappear if the days were replaced with nights?
The halo of a streetlamp beckons me along,
“ away from the darkness, come with me, my son.”
Kevin Shea is an editor for The Apollos. Check out his bio here!