All around are me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Mad mad, going mad soon.
Under so much tangible pressure. What else?
Come on, make an easy guess.
Sigh am trying to squeeze my brain juices to write an essay for GP.
"Make poverty history." Is it a realistic aim?
Till then.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment