Do not

make the streets know the corners stuck in pain
and holes never ready to open up their blinds
will not see me begging the pave grounds in vain
passion blind staring at your half lit window
sit and cry and scream of the poison oh no
not even the black will listen to sounds swept
a wisp of smoke of you the eyes have always kept
me myself to somehow remind
why the tears keep falling down

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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