Early-morning with its waking hollow-eyed minds,
who try — and fail - to squint at the rising sun from the west,
Morning birds running around with nothing to do & cupful of decaf in each hand, complaining about their not so subtle neighbors on matter of their own hypocrisy,
Almost envious — on verge of self-destruction — of their to-do lists for day,
Spitting mouthful of horrible caffeine,
Turning to oats as lifesavers,
Tripping on furniture despite strong desire to jump on it,
Cursing & Blaming those human beings,
who were smart enough to spend more than 5 hours on peaceful sleep,
Night birds — nocturnal creatures,
who do not need to bother checking their nightstands for black ring of ase
- like those who will always clutch to them at broad light,
at the nighttime becoming savage beasts of human nature.
Morning morphs into day,
Sun rose to the middle — fairly we'll say - there is no winner,
no one of those lost souls will ever prove to world its reversed/twisted nature.
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Yellow brick road is forgotten now.
In kingdom of yellow remain only bees & golden dragonflies,
If olny both could exist at the same time!
Odds are that when they're confronted (which is unevitable, pitifully so) with each other - bee wins,
never letting opponent to savor that blissful taste of victory; not allowing justice to participate in such severe game, leaving crunchy corpse & transperent wings & lungs.
Blue dresses & blue shirts,
Goofy poses send with sickening sweet letters to loverboys from beau who embodies community of youth urban infants of the whole city,
Of its hopes & dreams & fears.
So ridiculus in day light.
Old creepers chashing 'em around, photographing every single moment of their lifes,
with no demand for payment,
Intourists stagger confused with no hope for defenders clad in plaid trousers.