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 climb grey stairs
As the windows spit out yellow light.
The neon goes off and on,
Off and on.
I climb grey stairs
On the way home
As drunk men lean on one another and fall,
As mad women run the streets.
I climb grey stairs
And get tired.
The neon goes off and on,
Off and on.
Look at the freedom these men and women have.
And look at me;
Having built an image too perfect to ever be free.
And I climb grey stairs to my home
And I wish to be like them.
Well,
I've been wishing for a long time.
And the wishing alone often satisfies.
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