Choka, isn’t it? ~29C (Tired)

Days In The Blackberries Field

Calm after the storm.
People forgot how to talk.
Only sound of wheels
crossing ponds on the wet street
disturbs the silence.
The dreams are out of fashion,
none dreams any more.
Pockets are filled with papers.
The fake pictures and
imaginary friendships
feed our hungry souls.
I still wait for the summer,
cold rain washed my eyes.
I am tired of spring tiredness,
Wake me up with July ray!

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