racing orchestration

A silent, unmovable symphony
Rings as persons move about
Smelling, exuding of activity
While I sit,
And dream of anonymity
Swinging, like Portugal,
Distant but heard in chords
And words
Streamlined to one symphonic principle
I could not comprehend
Were it not for those persons
Moving about,
Unbeknownst, mist
Lies ahead
Barren, but for bodies.

Yellow brick road,
Why must you be so dim?
So devoid of emotional misconduct
Sketched to simply match expectation
All you do is take pride in the
Anticipation of disappointment



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