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Poetry PageYou stumble into an unmarked buidling, to escape the dripping rain and chatter of the old city. It is still in the throwes of rennovation, scaffolding and tarpaulins; ladders and tools scattered around the front reception room, which gives way behind to access the treatises soon to be sold or traded. You spot a young man speaking indistinctly with a group of labourers. They wore thick jeans and bright blue shirts, which reminded you of the bright lights you were once engulfed by. He was smaller than the others, not part of the group. Yet, where he pointed, the workers looked, when he asked, they seemed to answer.
A bulletin board in the front atrium catches your eye. Stapled, tacked, and taped were various papers.
||This website (or blog) is here to share knowlege, resouces, and works of art. Below you will find lists and links. Have fun exploring and learning. Sooner of later it will be more structured.|| Apprecieat'chu!