They can’t talk.

Between the dark events of the blind night,

the languished lamp lights the alley looking to cure loneliness.

Drowning over the dreary dumpster, diving into its own depression,

flaring into the frigid fence, finding itself before it freezes,

shining into the scrawny staircase, who shrieks at every step

even hugging the hissing hydrant, hungry for remnants of hope.

But alas, they could make sounds, not speak.