365 Days of Creativity
day eighty
CITY LIFE
the traffic moves
in a mollasical flow
drags me down
in its undertow
amoeba-like hands
throughout the city
industrial maze
beautiful and gritty
oil stains
like black birthmarks
dashed guiding lines
no longer stark
a concrete wood
with bark like brick
the moss below
unhoused and sick
and critters crawl
let's call them crowds
no smiles found
for they weren't taught how
an open-topped tomb
a great mass grave
where the undead live
and the living slave
so rare
a free-souled bird flies by
but quickly caught
its wings are tied
it walks alone
forever tethered
no rodents see
this rat is feathered
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