I see people always moving,

Never stopping

Never looking around but only

Straight ahead

Some are crying for help while some are

Silently suffering

Surrounded by the cold, hard walls of buildings

Towering over

Shadows slowly creep over hope from the

Dying day

I see people stumbling home in a

Drunken haze

Always moving and never looking, always hoping

To escape

These towering buildings that keep them from a

World outside

While the sun of another morning promises them

“Maybe today”

But as the shadows come creeping again

They know

They’re trapped within these cold, hard walls.