Thirty first floor up in the sky
The wind blows gently
The window is open
The night is silence
Far away at the horizon
A storm is brewing
But I ain't care for its brutality
Puffing away the burning cloves
Into a somersault of a dance
Standing on a weighting scale
The bloody index is blown
The kettle shrieks a whistle
Ready to soak a soursop leaf tea
The milk has gone expired
And the banana has gone black
The clock strikes one
But tomorrow is free
Screw the neverland
As the stares fix to the clouds
And the air caresses the eyelids
As the wind blows in
When the window is open
For the world to sing
A song of tomorrow
By Jo Haq
21 November 2020
1:39 am
KL Eco City
Buanaseni Studio
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