Constant rain outside…

It’s like silence, wet silence. 

And people walking through it without even noticing the reflections of wonderful lights. 

Vacations on their mind…old job, new job…

compassions of their lovers, 

but not the rain…like loosen strings on violins. 

Once one of my friend told me, ‘ if you want to sell your art then make something mediocre and die early…at fabulously young age.’ 

I asked him, ‘ well what if even after that, people don’t buy the creations?’ 

‘Then it was not mediocre’, he said with an assuring chin. 

But I know for a fact that this rain is mediocre…but people aren’t buying it…

The sitting serenity coming to an end, 

no human outside now…

But the rain still pouring through the lifeless entities. 

I guess people will notice it when it will stop coming down…

People don’t buy your art after your death…people buy your death only.

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Photograph: Google.