Behind these polluted narrow streets
The clouds that transmit a visualization of fog trapped in circles struggling to breathe
The graffiti images on the train, that births the image of a soul who perhaps tried to convey a message for the bare eyes to see
The loner sitting on the bench starring out in nothingness with eyes that tells a thousand stories
How it reminds me of how the faulty mysterious, peculiar, and strange beings sometimes transmits a beauty that no perfection can compare to.