.
It’s a black
and white
altering sky.
The mountains thrust
their rocky
face through
the clouds–
were about to cry.
And one day you wake up
and your dreams seem to scatter.
You gather what you can, and
the rest don’t seem to matter.
The noise and the poison
splattered against the sky–
The mountains thrust
their rocky face
through
the clouds–
were about to cry.
.