Big City
Small Town
Never seeing a familiar face by mistake
A neighbor never to far out of sight
Traffic for hours
The empty lanes cry
The City never sleeps
The Town never alive
Vast an never ending
Isolated and alone
So I knock on all doors
No ones ever home
YOU ARE READING
The Tint Of Tears
PoetrySadness of Satins Rage of Crimson Reds Happiness of Hollow Yellows Panic of Perfect Purples Weariness of Washed Out Whites Gleeful Greens Emerald Tight Ominous Orange Jumpsuit Bright That is the way my Paint Brush Cried
