There are worse places to be
There are better

Avenues of everything I’ve ever dreamt of
Stretch out before me like a baby’s crumpled arms
Rugs pave the broken road
Soothing the wavy maze of souks and bazaars

Covered in blemishes
Riddled with secret treasures
Untameable animals scour the pathways
Searching for forgotten scraps

Shadows live in contrast to the midday sun
Hiding fallen beggars
Lying twisted on the ground
Juxtaposition of beauty and pain unfolds

Poised in the blameless blue sky
A tower rises over the horizon
Desperation pours out of every cracked brick
And a prayer floats out to the market

It is perfection, of a kind.
The streets are not innocent
They have seen and heard and felt
Every wrong in the world

Afternoon heat of the square suffocates me
I’m lost in an array of people and materials
Drowning in the swirling language
Eyes stinging amongst the dusty chaos

Rain
Eats away the market’s life,
Dampening red-hot brick walls.
Corrupted skies cry.

There are worse places to be
There are better