Melancholic skies

This weather is the worst.

It makes people sick!

Sometimes, like a cold blanket

And sometimes, like an over-fed fire place.

 

This city isn’t Hawaii

Covered by warm, clear skies

With the sound of waves rushing

Into the lands,

 

We hear,

Large noise of motorbikes,

The swarm of office-going bees,

And the occasional azaan in the air.

 

But the large buildings

Rusting into time

Have cast long shadows

Into eternity.

 

Enough, have you taunted me,

Walk out of the cloudy skies!

And shine forth your glamourous shine

I am a poor boy in lack of Vitamin D.

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