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Sunday, July 23, 2017

Poem By Elcypher_The City Up There


The city up there
is fond of headlights
planted on the overhead
bridges.

The citizens gather in the night
to have a beautiful scene of
landscape that harbour running
Jeeps with blinding full lights.

Tomorrow,
the sunshine would be an illusion
if it sets again before the night.
The moon would be a laughingstock
if the fireflies still green through the darkness.

Someday,
the elders and headers in the city
would query God in 'Why's and Whys...'
They'd ask for suns in their lamps,
and beg for overhead bridges
to shield it when the morning rises.

But, when enlightenment beckons,
their children would call them fools
and reveal what the diaries say.

Then, they'd pray for matchsticks,
for lamps instead of full lights,
breaths instead of bridges.

They'd pray:
Let flowers bloom
on our gravestones
for the full lights to see
the daylight in our dark stead.

—The City Up There
El cypher.

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