In the Street

In the end

We are always

Alone

No one care

If you live or die

Just you don’t

Die in their home

It is ok

Spring In November

Rainy days in the city

No end in sight

The rain is

Making the soil

Fertile and full of life

A sentry letter in the gutter

The streets filled with water

And people with umbrellas

Hiding away from the

Relentless rain