Walking Around the City One Monday Evening
I remember it being green. The
color so sublime that it takes
away melange of misery. The
wallowing self in the streets
that leads nowhere. I remember
them being brown. The path so
stern that you might want to mi
-ss it but it is so hard to do just
that. It often reaches to an aban
-doned building, the cracks and
crevices are hosting a lot of
yellow within it. The kind of yell
-ow that makes you want to have
ice lollies. I remember the building
being grey. Carrying on it's should
-ers the dullness, the hate, the ugly
associated to it. The yellow tells a
different story. It doesn't care
about the green, the red, the grey;
the misery. There's blue directly
diagonal to it and in it there's a who
-le expanse of pigments. The hues
and the tints that are just wondero
-us for many but for yellow, it's
what the world is. This city is beige,
it always has been beige but if you
squint your eyes at a precise angle,
you'll see lavender falling down the
sky and everything will be fine.
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