My street

It always grabs every tiredness with its asphalt. The most alive. Light. I roll in it like a grain of sand among many people. She meets me again with friends. She makes me laugh. In the faces of so many colorful tinkling windows , my happiness looks around. Sighs pour out of them, countless blue wishes And with the white rush of my daring dream I mentally take her lines in my hands. and I hide it like the most colorful scarf in the world in the bright book of my fifteen years.