Jesus Of The Streets
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The ragged beggar prowls the frozen streets.
He smells of whiskey & miracles.
His bright eyes speak of a greater love
Beyond the sadness of this wounded night.
His beatific, Buddha like smile,
Suggests ancient, hard won secrets,
We will never get to know;
In our cool, regulated world,
Where life is as airbrushed, smooth and crass,
As the surface of a magazine.
Bu şiiri puanla
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