The city lights are growing dim,
the dark alleys find new companions.
An artist gives his boldest stroke,
the pallete however, appears too grey.
I stand away soaked by the rain,
the solemn cello strikes a chord in me.
The bookstore is closing for the day,
the new tales fail to evoke the finer sensations.
I walk away lonely and torn,
the nightbird and the moon show a magical path.
the dark alleys find new companions.
An artist gives his boldest stroke,
the pallete however, appears too grey.
I stand away soaked by the rain,
the solemn cello strikes a chord in me.
The bookstore is closing for the day,
the new tales fail to evoke the finer sensations.
I walk away lonely and torn,
the nightbird and the moon show a magical path.
its melancholy. i wouldn't say that the feel hasn't come out well, but when you're writing about these things try to use more unconventional(poetic) metaphors. would be more interesting.:)
ReplyDeletefor eg, instead of 'the new tales fail to evoke the finer sensations' how about 'new tales have old wine that the bottle fails to sell' ?
think about is, i'm not imposing. merely trying to suggest some leads.
aah..shall keep in mind, next time I sit to write:).
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