A heart that beats is dying
Poem entitled: ‘A Body on its Knees’ written on the London underground.
A Body on its Knees
The city is just a body on its knees, Even the snow isn’t white.
In summer when I freeze,
I kiss the morning sky;
but it is always night.
I gasped when I saw you on the street, I gave up my free seat
A heart that beats is dying,
dying for you,
And sleeping for me
The city is just a body on its knees.
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