Broken Clock
I am in Egypt next to the river holding up my hand, waiting to catch something that seems foreign. When in reality it was just a silly thing that 2 kids from Acirema did while exchanging words over gadgets. Realizing nothing has touched my hand, I load the engineered bottle and hit my soul into the star farthest away from anywhere. Why has it come to this? Only the walls know because they listen. They listen to the wind because it speaks.
