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…
Some people are mannequins
Wearing lipstick
Looking for another lip to share it with...
Some people are mannequins
Forever seeing things
Through the glass cages they are shut in...
Everyone judges them;
Says why they can’t escape.
But only they themselves know
They are mannequins.
Only they themselves know
They lack veins
And blood
And ligaments.
Everything has been oozed out...
Leaving a pale shell.
The lipstick makes the lips themselves,
And the eyes have lost all youthful spark...
Some people are mannequins
Wearing lipstick
Looking for another lip to share it with;
The another lip which never comes.
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