Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

In the eye sockets of the cities there are remnants of illusions beggars know best. Under the windows of brick houses, human bustle blooms. Some run to catch the luck of the hit. Others learn the laws of the jungle. In the mouth of the dragon sprouts a child's scream. How piercing. The first step and bitter disappointment taste. Lord, I would give you anything you remember the hospitable act. But as you know, everything was taken away by the wind.
In the eye sockets of the districts of poverty you will not find comfort. Maybe someday ... you will see a renewal of bliss.