These Streets

A million people pass by, they can’t see past the piercings, the converse, the eye-liner.
They see nothing but what they choose, ignoring smiles, souls and feelings
Alcohol swims through their system;
Engulfing their rationality,
Swallowing their reason,
Clouding their better judgement.
So many people walk these streets, very few exchange words,
Most judge on your shoes, your outfit, your appearance.
Everyday life is made up of it
Drunken people pass you by: singing and laughing.
Drinking the sorrows of their wrong decisions and distasteful choices away...
Until they awake the next morning.
The cobbled streets tell a story so many faces have passed, so many lives have been told;
I don’t want to walk these streets regretting my life with an anti-nostalgic personality.
Faces on the cobbles, lives plastered on the walls, streets of adolescent mistakes:
Glasgow.