Through glass window

I sit in an empty room crowded
So many bodies accumulated
Perfumed with bad breath and
Memories swarming in the horizon
I see them through the glass
I see them through the window
A single window, a prisoner of
The dark room
The mind that conjures images past.

March 14, 2019

About alaindesade

Novelist, songwriter and philosopher. Has special interest in human relations, evolution of mind, inter-cultural complications, and the concept of God.
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