Inspired by 'Romantics are a Dying Breed' by Eureka Alphonso

Recognition

comes

with those three seconds that last more than politeness requires

for looking into the eyes after opening of the doors.

U

n

t

i

m

e

l

y

.

Familiar strangers...

The silence is also familiar.

Surrounding,

Soothing,

Stretching...

My hands towards your face.

Familiar maps of patterns of insecurity,

Until the cameras appear to spread the news of not-so-great importance, while I realise I am just dreaming,

And the noises shoo me away into the space of silence within.

I walk silently

and every step I take places a brick into the wall I build with my own hands.

Inspiration credited on a note.

Romantics are a dying breed,

Indeed...

In the agony of broken dreams,

In the drops of non-existing future,

In the screams of silences...

Romantics...

Still flying the kite against the grey skyline of the city,

with a hole in their pocket, not asking for more,

In a torn sweater, refusing to buy...

Romantics...

Walk...

away...

Slowly,

quietly,

far from the joyfully marching crowd.

Even the tree is loosing its breath watching them slowly disappear.

(Inspired by 'Romantics are a Dying Breed' by Eureka Alphonso)