Bleak Street Poem by Clive Culverhouse
Bleak Street
getting into a taxi
I asked the driver
to take me to Bleak Street
not heard of Bleak Street,
he said, but it sounds depressing
run down, uninspiring
desperate
bleak
I got out of the taxi
thanks, I said
how much do I owe you
A concept of the mind. The taxi driver doesn't physically take the man in the poem anywhere - we are where our mind is, thanks to the taxi driver's comments. On a deeper level, this is what makes mental health so complex. Be kind and think about our comments in everyday life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 7:36:05 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A well expressed poem. Simply excellent....10++++
Thanks for taking the time to comment on my poem Bleak Street, much appreciated.,