Photo by Yeshi Kangrang on Unsplash
While blueish hues lift into an eve of golden cloud,
lights as old as ages brim the vanishing cumulus shroud.
They scatter before a city sky,
a line of flickering hope.
And scattered minds escape the day
and pray tomorrow cope.
About the Creator
Ashley McMahon
Aspiring writer, lackadaisical poet, disappointed idealist, formerly gifted child.
Trying to unlearn the lie of wasted potential.
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