Unreal CityThis is a city that could be any one.
Under the narrow sky, the people walk
With a conviction that's echoed in their steps
By what sound it makes when it hits the earth.
The ones who work making their way to jobs
They're late to- their hurried steps quake
And shake the puddles. Then there's laborers,
With slow, heavy steps, that leave grave indents
On the mud where they work. The middle class women
With their light gossips have much lighter steps
As they shuffle the ground. And the teenagers
Jump from here to there with no consequence.
But the lightest steps are those of children;
And in the towering crowd where all looks the same
I made sure to learn to differentiate
So I wouldn't get lost like I did that day,
While walking through the crowd with my father,
Whose hand I thought I held, I looked up to see
Another man staring down at me,
Who let go, disappearing into the crowd,
Where all at once the faces seemed a blur.
I called out but my voice drowned in the mess
That each second grew much more sinister,
As I was shuffled round by each passing figure,
Whose half caught words got strewn to a spell of doom,
And the narrow sky grew narrower as now,
Dread, like a fog, gripped at my pumping chest,
The harder I breathed the less air I could get;
The more I tried to see I just could not,
Till a hand grabbed me up out of the crowd
And cupped my mouth, when I screamed, though luckily
It was my father who'd finally found me.
I count each step now everywhere I go,
To know if I am right, and most of the time
I am. Though I fear the day I'm not, because
Dread is a feeling that never, ever leaves,
And it's omnipresent in the city.
Poetry by Sameen
Read 256 times
Written on 2020-01-07 at 16:48
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