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Brighton

  • Writer: Dariya Ordanovich
    Dariya Ordanovich
  • Feb 19, 2023
  • 1 min read

The storm blows around

This harbour town

I listen to its wind as a choir

The shipping forecast

Is crackling

Like wet wood upon a fire

And time slows and slips away

The tourists come around in May

'Till August when the clouds roll in

The pier cracks, the awnings fade

The Ferris wheel spins slowly in the rain,

The day is gone.

I am not going to set myself free here

I am following some dark fortune

Some circle in me

Hold back the wind

Hold back the rain

I want to live

To see good weather

Hold back the years

Hold back the hours

I want to live

To see the sun break through

These days

These days

Under this weather..



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