Ms.


The city is gray.
Gray, like...
Stone-cold ambivalence, fighting the wake of certainty;
The ashen windows of pedestrian souls,
The relentlessness of the rainfall.
The city is gray-
Concrete walls beckon, their callousness inviting.
Gray, like no man’s refusal;
Like the careless blurring of no sleep come sunrise,
Emptiness of a passionless being.
Yes, oh yes, the city is gray-
The swiftness of forgone dreams
Hitching rides on cerulean comets;
A wretched pool of filth: raging, spitting droplets
Shattering teeth to get free,
The tragic downfall we all saw coming.
The city is gray;
Yet stagnant are the crying hordes.

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