Wrong place, write time.

Even though there were few yellows,
zero mellows
or on's.

Drawn strung exits,
saw eclectic dens,
fitted out with orange velour  sofas that were past it.

In our absence,
rats pissed in the place,
where kids lost purity.
Sought any sort of something.
That wasn't short,
or shrift.

The sting of fizzed left winged birds,
skipped ropes,
and doses that could turn lights out.

We all wished we were somewhere?
Else we all cared less,
or couldn't.

Confession led bleedin hearts.
Cold starts,

Wrong place,

write time.