Oh when I glance at the subtle tiny creatures
The broken homes with busy souls
Rugged pupils with sparkling eyes
Pigeons that fly free while I, am stuck in traffic
Those young hands advancing towards my defiant face with rough lines and cracks whispering their fairytale
Scorpios enjoying their cigarettes
Thars on their phones
I see childhood
Selling toys on road
I see wealth
Sitting in chilled cars on roads
I see joy and freedom
Walking barefoot with shredded clothes
I've been looking for ages
Under the same sky, we all pass by like clouds
YOU ARE READING
GREY | POETRY COLLECTION |
Poetry" Humans have more shades Than on the colour palatte of an artist" Grey, is a mixture of darkness and light, happiness and sadness, black and white. It is a peaceful place where one hides, cries, smiles laughs without anyone knowing. Grey is us. W...
