The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
I drag the chair towards the window
And sit there with my cat to watch the world without being seen.
There is dirt,
Fingerprints,
A line of pigeon poop on the pane.
But the light still comes in.
I drink the coffee and replace the broken strings of my guitar.
The light still comes in
And it shows the dust around me,
Around my guitar.
What should I play?
All I know are songs to be played in the night;
Songs I weep to.
So I keep it down and sit there,
Looking for sadness in this bright world.
I'll keep looking
Until the neon begins to blink;
Brightly,
But the light not going far.
I'll keep looking
Until I find it.
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