Darkness Is Spreading

A desperate time, indeed. I've seen what it'll do. To lot's and lot's of people.
Big cities, small towns. People so desperate.
Look at it every day. Every time you log on. It's interesting to see someone so full of desperation and self-loathing. Interesting to see some piss-mop earn her meth breakfast.
It's fascinating to see where they will stay tonight. What they'll eat, who they'll blow, and how they'll die.
It's morbid to see them cry.
In storm drains, under bridges, all along the river I've read the despair in their shaky scrawlings on slimy concrete. All needing someone.
"Please come back!!! Your baby needs you!" Or, "Where are you? We miss you!"
As if they will get a reply.
Some simply cry out in crayon, "PLEASE!!! Somebody help me!!!!" And, "How did this happen? I want to die!"
As if they will get a reply.
In the cold, in the wind, in the early, black dark of night Santa rings a bell on their behalf in front of the grocery but the manager won't let any of them in to buy a can of soup.
despair, despair. Lean against the shattered cement with twisted iron rod Medusa hair and ache to the rats of your despair.
Hug your shivering self in the cold and watch the river glisten in the night as it smooths your tears to some other place full of folks who don't wanna hear it.
Reach out to the wall with a piece of chalk.
Write a letter to your long-dead parents that you'll never do anything wrong again; if they'll just let you come home.
As if you'll get a reply...