Nov 4, 2014

Blunt


22.01.2014.Bj

Hordes of dirty clouds travel through someone’s  sky
While chimneys pour the malice,
They raise the white pillars;
And down there on crumpled down street
Beggars pull your sleeves,
Old men rummaging through the trash
The children feed  pigeons.

And then when the sun crawls out
From den of the thawed night
Warming withered leaves,
Invasion of passers by starts to move
To receive their news for  the facebook.
And the rain goes somewhere else

And dogs drink from muddy puddles.

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