One thousand, five hundred and fifty-four
their words are useless and meaningless to me
yet still i come around watching as their worlds wiz by
like cars speeding through a lit up city
lighting up my night time sky
with all their careless thoughts
i find them beautiful ..
like intricate smoke curls
caressing the sky of deep denim

This poem i can farley relate too I wish someday to also be a poet
thank you
Angel