Right beneath the billboard

 They city that we dwell in

A man made catastrophe we eulogize, sometimes worship of, these city lights and the leisure that foreshadows the forbidden, forgotten and lost; Deprived of those opportunities that we were able to hold on, copies of us yet impoverished and just pitied.

The leeches of this city, who suck on lives and not just blood,only regard them as a stairway to the stage they preach in, seizing their opportunities of a normal life, yet letting yearn for a life that they could possibly never live in their presence, sowing a false hope of being a part of their nobility to be put on a pedestal, to inscribe themselves as the greatest in this city of noone. 

The skies are endless, noone owns them do they? So is wind and sunshine and the pretty sunsets that sink in the sky, yet why?why are they concealed by the skyscrapers that lie right above their eyes leaving them in absolute darkness and silent cries, their hope shines under these roofs of the homes filled with excrement , rubbish for what their feelings have become,Obliterated their existence is;

Is sympathy what they seek for?Humanity is what they blatantly ask for opportunities that doesn't seize poverty as a standard to be not eligible for an chance to be blinded by the city lights as we all are - deceived; To be not pitied and to be free from the darkness overshadowed.

What could we possibly do?

We all know their existence, yet pretend  oblivious. Each one of us are duly capable of changing their lives, instead of pretending that we would if we had the power - the money; when the realisation of we could by mere acceptance and acknowledgment  makes the real change.

This change we've contributed to might not secure us a place in the history of this gluttonous city.

But would be engraved in the heart of the one, who could eventually fulfill their dream.

Of being trapped in this city we call home.

The true city dwellers live in slum is what they say.