Half past six
City lights spread the streets.
I peep out of my windowsill
Gazing at the traffic underneath.
Faraway a Nightingale sings
a beautiful melody,
echo the calm forest.
The alarm clock invades my thought
Pulling me back
As I cling to my hope’s twine
Longing for my private paradise.
Swallowing the potion of certainty,
I shake the thoughts off my shoulders.
And lock my dreams
behind those iron bars.
Resuming to continue
my caged life.
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