Another day goes by—
brilliant hues of pink and purple light
settle above the gray haze
that wafts above the city skyline...
(They say the pollution really brings out the color)

We sit at a sidewalk cafe,
looking out over the concrete fortress
that has invaded the land—
like a virus with stealy gray tentacles
inching ever closer to The End...

Others march by,
tapping out a chaotic cadence on the concrete—
like an army of ants, just let out of work, or war
or whatever...
It all sounds the same from here—
tap, tap...

While we sip coffee at sunset on the sidewalk—
watching the hot pink light of dusk
etch its way across another day...

'Concrete carries us
.ta where we wanna go,' a voice whispers from the crowd

'That would all be fine and well
.if you knew where the hell that was.

Your just spinnin round in circles,
day after day,
hoping to land somewhere better tomarrow.'

While we sit silent
on the sidewalk,
watching the colours close
on yet another brilliant day...