Park Blocks at 7 o'Clock

A cacophony of sounds burst forth from the echoing hall surrounds.

Water graces steps never walked on by man.

Cheerful chirps pointilate the skies, caged by the crooked wandering limbs above.

Rumbling beasts pass by in rhythms long forgotten.

The lonely fern droops its many frills o'er the tattered rug of dampened soil.

Like the lions teeth they are, dandelions of yellow mustard muster all their strength to invade a newfound home.

But many a person, with blinders on, they cleave to their devices.


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