Coloured Dustbins
Coloured dustbins.
A sun beats down increasing thoughts to fly;
as waves look so dark blue then they crash in the sky;
future amused me when the clocks walk through my eye;
a shambles of concrete on roman roads that want to die;
the fields are a haven once everywhere full of rye;
a place full of coloured dustbins because we never thought why;
a job in an office with a window to remind him there's a world passing by.
Copyright © Peter Kiggin | Year Posted 2013
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