Day 979, obscured insides.

Day's pictures, Poetry

Day 979-1

Two doors, locked and solid,

worn out, corroded.

Opposites, like thoughts onset

from locked, obscured insides.


I like taking pictures like this, of old, worn out things that have served a purpose, and sometimes still do in their final days. They give off a lonely vibe, people have put this together once, all the little parts went through many hands and now it stands here, forgotten, counting the minutes. So many things are now orphans, all alone, hoping that someone takes care.

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