It hurts my eyes
You were hungry and little would grow.
Everyone wears dark clothes and sighs.
The stones are slippery, they walk slow.
Dalmatians have sad donkey eyes.
From the black hole of your memory,
I watch the morning scene in surprise.
White pebbles, blue umbrellas, still sea,
sunlit, dazzling. It hurts my eyes.
Who are all these people? I'm confused.
Those wealthy skins don't tan to leather.
Where are the headscarfed babas who used
trolleybags, and their drear get-togethers?
My raw skin hurts
from the heat of
two summers. Your
door I've peeked through
closed years ago.
There's nothing here.
Written by Tunde_e
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