Something raw, something old
How i feel with garbage that’s old
Its beautiful, its classy
Its junk, its messy

Reminding me of my soul
It helps me to find a goal
A collage of furniture
It represents my mismatch nature

But Merlin Monroe on the wall
Convinces me not to fall
Life around me looks so mechanical
Three clocks on the wall makes it so predictable

Names and numbers jumbled in my head
Lets me breath by writing then on a plate
Cut out from the outer spirits
I find my route in this gibberish

Be it old, be it new
I am staying here for a moment or two…

Inspired by: Junkyard Cafe, Bandra



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