
The many, the masses,
never look upwards.
There is the sky, patterns,
ceilings of Filigree up there.
The many, the masses,
looking towards nothing.
There. Up there is where
I go often;
looking upwards,
when they look towards nothing.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
The many, the masses,
never look upwards.
There is the sky, patterns,
ceilings of Filigree up there.
The many, the masses,
looking towards nothing.
There. Up there is where
I go often;
looking upwards,
when they look towards nothing.