The city was bustling and congested,
Surrounded by the air which kept it known
There among the million puppets,
Will never find a single soul

There the hours were celebrated,
With horns, machines and guns
The only things that were coerced silent,
Were the victim's moan

The puppets had their eyes staring down at the streets,
Cause the hands that played them,
Wore expensive rings

Selling the only plant,
bought them a renowned name in their dream
Where over time will come a new fame in scene

© Dshri

#writecopoem #urban #modernity