Disclaimer- I don't own Newsies, unfortunately. If you don't like poetry,
why did you pick this story to read? Please be critical though. Offer
suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.

Poetry

Late night
Falls
In heavy buckets.
Drenching the world
In nightmarish being.
Candles shine,
Piercing the thick black paint
So we can see our way.

Sitting alone,
Pondering
To himself,
Is one
Racetrack Higgins.
About what?
Life?
Selling?
Gambling odds?

He gazes out into
The blanketed night,
And wills the street lamps
To go
Out.
He embraces the dark,
He wants it to swallow him.
Blackness matched only by,
How low his feelings are.
Depression.

Black holes,
That consume
A young boy
Until he can not stand it
Anymore.
Things have become difficult.
Everything involves a
Struggle.
Nothing is easy lately,
So for anything he wants,
He must beg.

For another day
He is forced to
Hold on.
But still thoughts of the end
Linger.
He stares out
Into night.
Slowly it peers above housetops.
A light of grey,
Not pure,
But better than
Before.

Hope

End

I'd like to be a poet, you know, so I could wear those berets and be in
songs (Raspberry Beret). So, for now it will be a black beret, because this
isn't an excessively happy poem. More bittersweet I guess. Whatever, please
review and tell me if I should write more. I may want to change my beret.
They're so cool! Review!