Friday, February 3, 2012

Green hayfields?

Green hayfields?

No signs of the green meadows,
Now enter these buildings, loneliness,
And so much are losing the direction
The world in another side and ritual,
The dream of a poet loses the ship
And without knowing where turn or wheel
I can see berthing,
But normally according
A police car, an ambulance
The girl with the look of pure arrogance
Poisons so common day to day.
And punishment this time passes,
Where wanted the sunshine, mere smoke,
Is there still falls fantasy?

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