Odd, per the usual crowded walks
It elicits an emotion of eerie esplanades
Where the ghosts of graduates past
Once paced in passing en route to class.
And ways of thought have been lost,
From the mind of the couplet,
Dying as dreary as the dismal droplets
Of snow and slick streets and starless skies
A blanket above the busy blind bodies below.
No comments:
Post a Comment