| Smoking Views | ||||
| Clouds of smoke Like wraiths on wind Travel within our dirty streets. Bolts of light And shocks of color Splash out at the darkened night. Then the wind rolls through, The wraiths fade away, Leaving the colors to our mind As just a pretty color. What is fake and what is true? Is there a difference between the two? Is one so bright it makes you look twice? Is one so dark you must turn away? What is fake and what is true? Which one takes after you? |
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