when the sullen, nebulous clouds
rips the last phase of today's flare
and the storms decides to plunge
and cast the die
calling the shots
settle down and watch
as I march down to besiege the city
under such god-fearing thunderstorms
while all these night-trippers
try to unstunk their shirts
from little spates
of avalanche
-a.
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littlemisscloud writes
PoetryMy collection of original poetry writings where I'd write way past my bedtime.