Culture
By Frogi59
Throughout the day streets are filled with living.Everyone hard at work the people run the show.The red dirt baking in the sun sweat covers my brow.I gaze upon mud huts humbled by the primitive artwork.Through the night silence whispers song.Glowing embers are surrounded by feast and joy.In the rain I walk the streets sidestepping puddles that cover my feet.I hear the soft beat of music I'm sure life doesn't get better than this. Written August 9th, 2001 © on Oct 17 2001 06:03 AM PST 18 • 0 • 9
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Throughout the day streets are filled with living.Everyone hard at work the people run the show.The red dirt baking in the sun sweat covers my brow.I gaze upon mud huts humbled by the primitive artwork.Through the night silence whispers song.Glowing embers are surrounded by feast and joy.In the rain I walk the streets sidestepping puddles that cover my feet.I hear the soft beat of music I'm sure life doesn't get better than this...."