The city pulsates like a stress induced migraine
,humming to the percussion of every commuters foot steps.
Its hand loops and strings sunlight into a needle that stitches
sky together along with earth as the cities clothes.
This city isn’t worthy of such expensive garments
paid by the wages of human souls.
Its fat, bloated and corrupt with a gluttony for innocence
I feel its polluted breath grind against the
interior of my lungs
There’s no way, you can escape a discussion with the city clean
No matter how brief your visit is, it will always take something from you,
Leaving you tainted and perverted with its dirty blood stained hands.