(untitled poem)

By Pepa Quin

I walk through the city late at night
So that I may see what is not seen
The world around me is full and bright
The dark is turned to green
The air is quiet
No one is around
There is nothing to be said.

I walk through the city in the day
And a begger bars my way
A thief runs down a street
For a simple peice of meat
The air is thick
The streets are full
There is too much being said

In the crowd
I watch and listen
Arguements abound
Accusations made
Fights are settled
But never ended
Too many people
Using their voices
In a bad way

I am glad I have nothing to say.

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