On The Way Back Home

On The Way Back Home

Flickers of orange-yellow light,

Dancing past the cold night.

A gaze of the old stadium ground.

Whispers of silence as the only sound.

A sharp breeze cuts through the lonely walkway.

The sapped mind from the heavy hours of the day.

On the way back home,

With pictures of monochrome.

I wonder what life is to live,

No stop for a second to relieve.

But, when the heart fervently wishes for a day off,

The contours of my mind still dream just about work.

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