The Alley

The Alley

By Apolinario B Villalobos



Beneath the shadow of two buildings

Pockmarked with holes, squares

Enough for one or two,

The alley beckons to me

and through it, I squirm my way.


I go through it with counted steps and smile

at girls with pouting lips

as I was prodded on with curiosity 

to peek inside the room

foreboding, clouded with gloom.


Heavily made up faces, some young, some old

all with ready smile, entice the timid and the bold

for short-lived happiness along the alley

where life is lived from day to day

and for what comes next

Nobody could say…

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