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Loud Rain

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…

The contemplation of sadness

 


The yellow lights necklace old buildings;

Buildings with fresh graffiti

And lines of dog pee.

The yellow lights necklace old buildings

And look out of place with everything else.

I look at these walls

And hear a dull ring in my heart.

Somewhere...

A bull is being slayed,

An aurora borealis is being ignored,

A whale washed ashore is being photographed

And never helped back in.

Somewhere...

A dancer stumbles,

The music goes off tune,

The top stops spinning...

The yellow lights necklace old buildings

And look out of place with everything else...

Like an old lady with too much make-up,

Spotless

Yet still ignored

And ugly...


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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…