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Jul 2011
This city is built like all the other cities
Atop lives and deaths long forgotten
Covered in the dust form its excess

The people, draped in costume and mask
Rarely pulling them off
Always making up stories to go along with their suit
I'm a business consultant
I'm a banker
I'm a painter
a poet
a liberal
a conservative
an anarchist
a national socialist
Forgetting what it's like to be naked
Even when they are alone

But a few walk naked
Hearts out, heavy with the weight of the world

They sink deeper and deeper
into a sea of trouble and worries
There is no land to call home anymore for
The restless wanders going nowhere fast

Once forgetful
But remembering what it was as children
We play games with friends
while spitting the fire in our breaths
Atop the graves soon to be reused
waiting to be buried in them
so the city can be built on top of us.
P S Bravo
Written by
P S Bravo
682
 
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