Enlight
In another lost city
Broken like an unlocked drawer
Graffiti of time scribbled rain dries
The skies from blank faces dwindling away,
From, from where or who was there to say
What constituted colors of a day
Taken out of vernacular context
Space is stretched, sketches redrawn
Inside an aching night, dawn
Was a plaything, unwitting
In another lost city.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2023-06-23 at 21:00
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