

My Ancient EyeThe night is cold, A frigid wind Rustles through the Bare trees. They Shake and tremble. So few of them are left now, Buildings crowd everything. Here, in the heart of New Orleans, the Hustle-bustle of the day Is deafening, the Southern sun, so Scorching, and the ignorant Pitiful creatures so Loud. A wretched stench Can be smelled in daylight, Sweat, grim, charred food, Paranoia, anxiety But at night, Oh the glorious night, How I wish I could have My Endless Night I've watched this city Grow and change, &nbMy Ancient Eye
Red
-->To0dz
Làurén<--
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