PESSIMISM 6  

By David Eide  

Cold city. When I stroll your naked heart I see the children crawling to an empty box to sleep. They drink the dew in morning While the city plans a day filled with schemes. Cold city, I am planning your destruction, I am planning To cut out the arrogant brain that you penetrate me with, Leaving a gaping place for the chilled wind. I dream of your ruin and will dance when I hear far away, That you have suffered as I have suffered.



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