Poetry · Writing

middle of the party quarrels

hate wasting time-

not wasted but still found myself on the roof.

It’s safe up here- penny for your thoughts

and it’s tax free

moving clouds with a kiss

two streets and a bliss.

the music is still pumping

smog in the air

deflate in the air

the music is still pumping

can hear two downstairs

the walls are unforgiving.

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