A Place To Rest The Mind
Neither Snow nor rain
Just white foggy streets
I am the black hooded man
Walking at night
You will fear me
When we meet
But I am not dangerous
Just cold,
Trying to keep
My head together
And warm
The mind walks its circles
My feet walk strait
Reaching for the bus
â…“ of a Songwriter, â…“ of a Writer & â…“ of a Photographer
Poetry
© LopezLibra, 2013-2018
Vardag och verklighet i min värld.
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