Norm
Cardboard cut outs, emotionless with the times.
It’s a new city.
A new generation.
Not a revolution just a communist depression.
Rustic buildings with a withered ageing look of desperation.
Its windows smashed, tired eyed.
Brown, rusty and humiliating.
Smirking in its arrogant glory.
Shameful really.
A blank canvas like the body has its twists and turns.
People, animals even objects.
How can anybody describe something as unattractive or undesirable?
The norm sickens me.
Ambiguity frowned upon.
The unique or controversial ignored.
The mornings mix of pale blue, red and white.
An illusion.
Darkness creeps pulling a blanket over the night sky.