

not with a diabetica man who's never seen a brilliant sunnot with a diabetic
or the whisps of a pale cloud he hasn't seen a dew soaked leaf or a bird fly across the sky never felt the majesty of a playful breeze or witnessed shows of shade and light play across the surface of the stillest pond
perhaps his eyes don't have the gift of a perfect function perhaps his mind decides to filter out the light maybe he doesn't care or has the heart to mind
so still he stands above the highest cliff looking down the precipice watching the playful struggle of


in clouds and branchesgrey masses and broken horizons heavy branches, drifting leaves a mist that hovers lazily around amber lamps and street lights that blur and glow in a hazein clouds and branches
then, a rising sun which does not penetrate but leaves a dull ambience in thickening clouds a wind that chills and changes and leaves that dance in an involuntary current
walking, treading on a grey and dismal sidewalk looking over rooftops to see the same bleak sky a sky full of inspiration and beauty and a concrete which reflects the same
looking down at puddles
full of ripples and reflec


air conditioningi think i made it past the two story fences and gates. that monotonous cycle. most of those years were blurred splatters of dirty car oil on cracked pavement. exhaust choking out any form of entertainment of refreshment.air conditioning
i went back today. i walked past the earth toned walls and textured surfaces, looking into the half draped windows. hearing the same music i've heard for years. the same chorus and verse that floated on a muggy summer night. you can still see the same people, colorless now. lacking life or soul. i saw the same dead grass crawling over that same dirt. it was no place for a future. and i'm reminded of those nights
--
oh wait....
i mean,i love you.
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