RumbleA Poem by Ivan A. BoscoStomping the ground the great steps of the crowd roar through the streets, a mass, a formless mass of hurried figures, archaic, ghostly figures rushing through, not a single one of them seems to notice, not a single one seems to care, for this is the city.
© 2015 Ivan A. Bosco |
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Added on December 1, 2015 Last Updated on December 1, 2015 Author
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