Afternoon light
On old brick buildings Glinting on asphalt And cheap plastic. The streets are cramped with cars Sluggishly hurrying to go somewhere I’d like to open the window but I’d just choke on air Stained with exhaust. Cracks in the cobblestones don’t bother me as much As the cigarettes lodged in them. I look out the window Squinting through the harsh sunlight Noticing trees People Buildings We’re going somewhere but Those people on the side of the road aren’t. I’d talk to them but I’ve been told that This city is not always safe And people are not always kind. So I never do. If I had six words to describe this place, They’d be ‘It might have been beautiful once.’ -Atlas
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January 2018
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