Fishing In The Fountain


They fish in the fountain

Fishing in the fountain, they humble for themselves

They think through their thoughts,

As the people around rush through the streets

The little child cries in the congestion

They play chess on the roof

Playing chess on the roof, they think for themselves

They humble through melodies,

As the people below hesitates through a day

The crying child runs down the street

They drink in the morning

Drinking in the morning, they mutter for themselves

They babble through the hour,

As the people work their lives away

The little child cries in a shady corner

They play flute in a café

Playig flute in a café, they whistle for themselves

They look out the window,

As the people near shout them to stop

The little child walked in the street corner

And found himself in a sea of uncertainty and wonder,

As he picked up the fishing rod.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed