riding on a bus
with the wind caressing my cheeks
in a cold welcome
made me feel
as if everything was real.
the noise of every sound from people
from cars
felt like a beautiful hymn
of beauty,
the city lights
and broken tainted windows
captivated the heart
of a starved artist
whose poetry is still
doomed to nothingness
for she was no one but an artist
in the shape of a youngster
with a messed up poetry.
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 12:04 AM UTC
riding on a bus
with the wind caressing my cheeks
in a cold welcome
made me feel
as if everything was real.
the noise of every sound from people
from cars
felt like a beautiful hymn
of beauty,
the city lights
and broken tainted windows
captivated the heart
of a starved artist
whose poetry is still
doomed to nothingness
for she was no one but an artist
in the shape of a youngster
with a messed up poetry.
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