by me(whatever) 4/17/15
to: People in the Box- Seijatachi

The city's overridden in gray clouds,
your wet hair sticks to your forehead-
hard to tell if it's sweat or the humidity
a bird flies an arc across the sunlight
streaming through the window
reminding you of a childhood memory
a place that can never be reached again.

In these empty days,
Searching for the place you truly belong
a piece of paper rustles,
returning your attention to your present task
umbrella in the lost and found
the sidewalk spots and darkens in the rain
and it's time for you to head home.