by The pitter, patter of their feet
pounding daily on the street
and the weight of all the soles
stumbling through their grim patrols
cut a pattern of deep scars
which still bled, even in their cars.
The pitter, patter of their feet
pounding daily on the street
and the weight of all the soles
stumbling through their grim patrols
cut a pattern of deep scars
which still bled, even in their cars.
A (wise) man of two faces 
Quite haunting. Love the structure of this.
Thank you very much 🙂