A Simple Chore Becomes a Test
By Clonemep
In the still of night, when shadows loom,
I dread the task, my heart consumed.
For down the path where darkness reigns,
Lies a fear that grips, a silent strain.
The trash cans sit, innocent and still,
Yet whispers echo of a city’s will.
Impeding the roadway, a crime untold,
A law that chills, as stories unfold.
With every step, my courage wanes,
Imagining scenes of legal chains.
A simple chore becomes a test,
In the city’s eyes, I dare not jest.
Oh, how I long for streets serene,
Where taking out trash is routine.
But in Arborfield, fear takes its hold,
As tales of laws untold unfold.
So, in the night, I hesitate,
To face the alley’s daunting gate.
For in that darkness, shadows dance,
And I, with fear, take one more chance.
