Reflections….

On strumpet street lights are dimmed,
they’ve only just heard the sad news.
Some sat with eyes swollen, red rimmed,
others listened to music, mostly blues.

No one on this street cared for churches,
more were followers of fashion than gods.
Yes in their direst state they had searches,
but most thought of the clergy, as sods.

They’d taken advice now to their hearts,
sorrow, follows as it snaked along a street.
Diamond dog actors stolen off a queen’s tarts,
still spitting whisky tasting curses at their feet,

Calamitous monsters carried on behind his wake,
Americans craned their necks for a show of red.
Alladin Zane thought he’d justified his break,
but Stardust surely killed the lot stone dead.

But in this town things don’t change much,
another sun rises burns then slowly sets.
So like his blistering art that could touch,
those kind gentle people with mild regrets.

Walk awhile in his shoes feel the heat rise,
taste his contempt saying no to their knighthood.
Freedom of mind and will was his great prize,
living life like only he or strumpet people would.