A Poem A Day
2005 / 06 / 23 - Beirut's Heat - Poem by A Poem A Day
The dust is floating in the polluted air
Like a silent whitness of people's suffering
And the sun is shining proudly like the heir
To a throne that has never had any king.
After a few days in the fresh mountain,
I'm back to the city's dreadfull heat
With sweat flowing like a streaming fountain,
Smelly socks and horribly stinky feet.
40°C, the thermometer must've gone furious;
With my shirt and pants glued to my skin,
I'm somehow getting mad and delirious
If I walked naked, would it be a sin?
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