The Stoplight

Both silence and sound co-exist
like pity and envy. Surely, there is
a place in this world, where I am
not lonely. Who can can tell you
how many leaves or the number of
invisible stars? Like the color-blind
at a stoplight or confusion the soul
must suffer when the lights go out;
even in my dreams, the door is shut
and no one is knocking.

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