Friday 6 April 2018

The Morning After the Rains

Walk the streets
The morning after the rains.

The singular petrichor forgotten along the drenched shores
The lone remain of a wretched love story; a tarnished crimson umbrella
The smothered lives piling up like lumps of sand on the concrete pathway
The laments of the broken skies, as if mother to the everyday tales of a lost essay

Walk the streets
The morning after the rains...

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