I found sound sleeping on a bench
Freezing in the empty sky
Pretending it's a poet

The last place you stood no longer exist
and I
forgot that the world is not black and white
It's grey

In a way,
the rain never stops
You never read the signs
and we are all
scared

An un-promised guarantee
A spoken sonnet that lets her dance on it peddles
And at last,
we've all forgot your name