Beauty…
In crumbling walls,
Dying plants,
Strangers we quietly pass by.
If I can see it all around,
Perhaps, I’ll feel it in me.
#523-Everywhere
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The original language of this site is English. Please note that translators impact the meaning of the poems.
Beauty…
In crumbling walls,
Dying plants,
Strangers we quietly pass by.
If I can see it all around,
Perhaps, I’ll feel it in me.