Small paths where shadows sing
Vanilla cake messed in White sheets;
Stains only visible in dim scene .
The glass curtains holding the view of Streets
Streets of stress, when i passed you i felt like paper
With no holes yet no hope to be dry again.
I was ending in the edges,
I was going under the bridges,
In the street of stress,
I do not remember the rest....
YOU ARE READING
Streets of stress
PoesieStreets of Stress a collection of melancholy thoughts painted into poems🌜🥀
