Free verse · Poetry

C, B, Ab, A

Playing with shadows, black and white
Sitting in the dark, lights coming only from the street
Cars going left and right
Signs and commercials shining bright
I hide my eyes, but then, it’s my city, there
Berlin is the word, mysterious
The story of my soul, grey undecided soul
It sounds like the sense of doubt
It smells like the rain on a Thursday night
It’s an eye that has seen too much
Shall I rather draw the blinds
It feels cold, like a woman whose heart has been broken too many times
Kissing lips unwilling as metal
Not a place trying to please, to be liked, to be loved
For broken people to gain hope
Or to lose what’s left of their will


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