Like Air for Gwisin (Original)

in #poetry7 years ago

I am not a city
For tourists to wander
Or natives to lament myopically
From their stone street front perches.

The avenues of my soul,
Laid out in spoked spires,
Are not for travelers passing through
In fleeting, frightening flashes.

There are no museums here
I have no exhibitions or free Fridays
Or any deals to see my truths with a ticket,
And there are no discounts or haggling allowed.

The transit lines that bind my love
Do not close at midnight or require tickets,
There are no turnstiles tying us up
Or announcements to apologize for any delays

I am not a city
For foreign interests and curious minds,
To drink in my sights like air for gwisin,
What happens here does not stay.


Thank you for spending time here

@prufarchy

images sourced from GIPHY.com

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Ha ha, I had to look up gwisin, if I hadn't I would have thought it was some sort of Star Wars character. Who poem speaks of personal privacy, I've only revealing Secrets when ready. I know many people who are thrilled when they can get deep into your personal life get into all the muck in the mire. They are offended if you hold back, but the fact is more often than not it's none of their business.

Nice post and i like post you @prufarchy

So nice post, i like that.

Wow! It is great! Thanks for sharing!

extraordinary, amazing post
I like your post @prufarchy

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