Flutters...
Wings  struggling to get higher while they fall.
The smell of rain drops after beating the soil into wetness.
The gloomy faces of humans, greed and persistency, correction and legal distortion.
The music of earth, blows harshly, taking the fallen leaves from the trees, which are dry now.
So their sounds makes a horrible melody, one that sounds like noise.
I hate this place, yet nostalgia keeps poking my curiosity.
What is?? The ex who left, and ex-ed another.
Or a place of my birth??
My utopia or my depraved dwelling.
Still, the town is still colorless, but because this is where we met.
The town looks like a warm chrome now, and i peak through our passage of time, i smile, but as i recall your death.
I cry!