Ein Gedicht von Firsttry
For an usual eye, it lost its color and is damaged by whether and time like any one else of its kind in the city.
For the most it is just an ordinary sitting option.
For some it is the place where they held hands the first time with their significant other.
For few it is their unavoidable place to sleep at night.
For one man it is none of these.
That man is in no way different than the others.
Although the same air is flowing around and the sun is treating everybody the same, when he sits there ,
His lungs fill with fresher air and
the sun is shunning stronger at his skin.
Even when it seems like, he is sitting by himself and he talks although nobody is around, he talks with the the people he lost and with the people he does everything in his power not to.

When he steps up of these ordinary bench, everything he does after that, he does with the purpose to be a better version of himself by the time he sits on that bench again and talks to himself.

Informationen zum Gedicht: Bench

1.725 mal gelesen
(Es hat bisher keiner das Gedicht bewertet)
Das Gedicht darf unter Angabe des Autoren (Firsttry) für private Zwecke frei verwendet werden. Hier kommerzielle Anfrage stellen.