Ode to The City

The city where no one ever sleeps,
All of them awake in their own dreams
Everyone in their own little webs,
Scurrying like spiders away into the corners,
Spinning their paths away from each other
Without a pause or break.

Hear the trees talk as they sway,
Of sorrow and pain swept away,
Under the skin, out of sight.

Look at the streetlamps as they blink,
Mute witness to the grief
Lend an ear, and you will hear
The countless sighs of despair.

Take a walk down the asphalt roads,
The empty lanes and the dark alleys,
Scarred, pockmarked streets.
The creased, tired eyes have gone to sleep.

Breathe the cold, peaceful air
Gently carrying the inward screams,
Ones that never escape the walls
Muttered prayers, and unanswered calls
For a kindly word or a glance

Stop at the crossroads where,
Where the roads are chosen,
And the people are sorted
The weak from the strong
The rich from the poor
The dreamer from the dull
And each goes peacefully to the
Grave of his own choosing.