Somewhere along the way
In a smoke-filled room
Crowded with vacant eyes and grinning teeth,
Off a dead-end street
Littered with wind-scuttled gum wrappers
And discarded damp cigar butts,
littering the pockmarked pavement.
Somewhere in a time since fled,
In a place now forgotten,
There is a piece of him caught on the ragged edge
Of an interrupted dream.
Wouldn’t it be nice to simply place an ad
On the chance someone might answer?
“Lost one small child,
Answers to the name of Innocence.
Is valuable only to owner For sentimental reasons.
Reward if returned.”