The many, the masses,
never look upwards.
There is the sky, patterns,
and 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,
and 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.
