Adam's Garden

the heroes have left me, and standing here alone without the words to describe my own inadequacy, i cannot help but feel ashamed that my life has become so redundant.  i am not brash or sincere, just another liar and thrifty drug addict, biding his time until night falls and he can seek solace in a pint or a drag.  the sadness of moonlight giving redemption to his battered soul, he feels the dream of his past in his shoes, and does not discover the girls to be rude or endearing, just there and pleasing to his senses.