The Surreal World of the 3 AM Laundromat
By Saywisely
1 min read
May 17, 2025
The only light on this whole street,
A rhythmic, lonely, tumbling beat.
The smell of soap, the buzzing hum,
Where all the city's orphans come.
We sit and watch our colors swirl,
The forgotten people of the world.
In this bright, sterile, sleepless place,
Suspended out of time and space.
A rhythmic, lonely, tumbling beat.
The smell of soap, the buzzing hum,
Where all the city's orphans come.
We sit and watch our colors swirl,
The forgotten people of the world.
In this bright, sterile, sleepless place,
Suspended out of time and space.