TAXI.com

Lamppost on a Darkened StreetJohn parked near boarded storefronts, and sat in his Pontiacas sundown draped the ghetto, in a blanket of blacksaw a woman on the curbside, stuff pepperspray in her pursecos ev'ry car that slows down, could become her hearsea Chevy van let her in, then melted with the nightthinkin' one more soul that's hollow, might fill the void insidethe night was black except for, one light in the misty hazeJohn drove off as one more girl, took the first one's place'neath the lamppost on a darkened streetthe lamppost on a darkened streetJohn first scouted the suburbs, lookin' to build his new churchbut one hour in that ghetto, ended his long searchcos lanterns that burn by day, are a waste of oil and lightbut just one candle in blackness, is a beacon shining brightlike a lamppost on a darkened streetwhere the lost and forsaken meetits light has a soft and silver glowand sets a halo on all who stand belowthe lamppost on a darkened streetJohn pried the boards from an empty storeand opened a house of prayerthat first night he preached the only ones he reachedwere shadows in folding chairsthen a van rounded the corner, and parked by a midnight curbwhen he rolled down his window, he couldn't b'lieve what he heardhe got out and poked his heart in, as if something called his namethen a lonely woman followed, and that tiny church becamea lamppost on a darkened streetwhere the lost and forsaken meetits light has a soft and silver glowand sets a halo on all who stand belowthe lamppost on a darkened street(c)2006 Robert George