The city doesn’t sleep,
it mutters to itself,
like the old man on the corner
shaking his cup for spare change.
The lights blink out messages
you’re too tired to read,
and the streets carry whispers
of footsteps you’ll never follow.
You’re alone,
but not lonely-
not really.
The world’s still spinning,
the stars are still laughing
at us poor fools who think
this moment
means something.
But maybe it does.
Maybe that streetlight blinking ahead
is a sign.
Or maybe it’s just a bulb going bad.

Does it matter?
You keep walking.