Feb 07, 2009 09:40
I've never given much interest to the world at my view.
So, as I am high, I sat , staring out of the bus window.
Skid Row of where I've grown.
Hoping no one is standing at the stop. Because they are more of a threat than what could be an acquaintance.
But the ruins of this place we call "City", which has no 'city' a at all, mesmerizes me toward history.
I can be a storyteller,
And I can be a fact machine;
But I want to be told the
meaning behind the buildings that still stand, yet half burnt down.
meaning behind the trails that lead no where.
meaning behind the bullet holes in the shop windows.
Meaning.
Tell me meaning.
of this city.
this world.
my life.
my life.
my life.