Berlin, Berlin
Berlin
Bearlin
Berlin
How you've captured me
in your claws
your red sky
Has welcomed me
pock-marked arms
Or am I just a poor orphan
to your many lost
children?
What must I do
to fall
into your line of grace?
Tongues wagging
I fell into you
wandering through
on a happy May day
changing views
of the same station
ever changing worlds
seemed all the same
'til I came to you
you promised
a new dawn
or was I mistaken?
Copyright © Michaela Lola Abrera | Year Posted 2007
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