Our Alternative is Called Solidarity

Cold dark grey, piled against the sky,
empty of warmth from the sun it hides.
Outside, sheets of ice fall on the paths
that lead to the tunnels and work.
Silent breaths curse the shade as it
crowds the view of blue above;
quiet desperation that searches
for an exit from this labyrinth of frost.
Slogans painted on the wall call out
as faces pass without speaking:
what we need is an alternative.

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