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Skyscraper
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Old Time passes...
So do cars.
I must need glasses for this bench I sit on looking out afar.
Reaching for the sky
Obstructed by mammoth skycrapers that seem they've died...
Lifeless concrete... Empty beams...
Hold up this vision so obscene.
And from the tough bench
I try for the death of me to clench my teeth
And bring out the best of me
As I try to apply a meaning to these monsters so demeaning...
Blocking the path to the heavens
Yet odd in their beauty when circled by all their brethren.
Each eye holds a different man with a different cry
Casting them off from the world in ways I despise...
Thousands of eyes... within their frames
Hold a different trace of a different vein
That shoots blood throughout its system...
And they soar so magnificently high.
But you know... I can't help but sigh
Thinking that somewhere these skyscrapers cry...
Those days when it rains and you feel sympathy for reasons inane...
After all, they didn't grow so heartless and tall
Through their own accord.
Somewhere, someplace, one of us is guilty for wielding the sword
That cut through our air and placed a towering robot there
To group in compartments us nomads that once wandered clear
As one in the same.
But now it's a shame...
We've been sacrificed to become unoriginal dice in an organized game...
How odd in its premise:
"Let's make a way for Mr. Gray
To say he never knew Ms. Smith
Who always stayed just steps away..."
"Let's build a place so self contained
It shuns the very founding plane
The world has set for it today..."
"Let's make a hive
So I can be a bee
And hide myself inside, okay?"
.............
"Who am I talking to anyway?"
