When the opaque dusk swells,The broken street lamp’sPearlescence of glass shards,Overshadows the warmth of light bulbThe night is the unsung hero,Catching the pirouettes of silver sliversand fixing themto the stars.The bulb’s venous fuses,The wires’ bony architecture,The tenacity of the current,Convulsing for terminal luster,Flickering, fadingTo eternal quietusYou must acquire new hardware