Looking up at a blackish-red morning sky. A sad sight for no bird flies by
A beautiful painting marred by a sky scraper. Airplanes three and a bird nowhere.
Painted lives below. Living against every natural drive.
No tryst with fresh air or a tree. Not yet dead not alive
they do not leave for a more natural world, their country side.
They cite reasons–for the sake of loved ones.Mention the sea food and palms, A coconut falls into the ready mix soup
More traditional their views, than ever before
Rising like yeast till they find the sky on the floor,
Sinking into stink, closing uncomfortable doors.
Outsiders forever, transient their time
The city never sleeps, the hearts always fear
Slick and smart suits over souls bare.
Breathing in money-conditioned air yet no coin to spare.
The monster grants every want but eats all desire
The sun is rising, the day breaks fine
Someday such life rhymes will be deemed divine
Smother oceans with sand, its waves will claim the land
earth tattooed with concrete designs