The Stream Laughs

A stream 

flowing with words

of laughter

overtakes the loud 

dominance of the city. 

Not caring

of its ego 

or what the city 

find valuable

knowing only 

the ebb and flow

of its own song

strengthened by drums

that fall from a torn sky

filling what once 

was a bowl 

and now is cutting stone

slowly filling the remains

of a broken and scattered memory 

feeling only its freedom

for what stands in the way of a 

roaring world that kills

with the very thing so 

many desperately need 

but do not understand

that IT is what the city 

should hold dear

not some small talk 

or symbols of green. 

But the river laughs, 

and the heavens cry

from a shattered scar, 

and the city is shown

true power

and true wealth. 

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