Concrete and Coldness

Just a brain sneeze on life in a bustling city

The silence of the night,

it sings to me a tale of sorrow and despair.

As the cool wind grazes the surface of my body,

warmth slowly passes, and fades, finding itself into the nigt

What I see before me, is a manifestation of my thoughts

A man, surrounded, by cold concrete stretching higher than he could ever be.

Cold, artificial light, guiding the lost and misguided souls.

Oh do we not hear the cries of those who have come before us?

To hear their please, to return to what we once had?

Are we but blind, of history repeating itself?

Do we not care enough to save our own shelves?

Do we ever try to pull ourselves back from diving deeper into loneliness?

Or is it too late, to even try?

I can't be saved.

Or rather, I choose not to be.

Because it's easier to repeat our mistakes than to change.