White City
O, I look at this White City
and feel a broken heart.
Even a sight to rubble
could make a stitch from its ripping apart.
But no, not even a simple memory
no crime, no hate, no love.
Nothingness everywhere, even into my mind.
silence reminding me every second
of this fate to mans kind.
I could be a god for surviving
But all I feel is the lonely ant searching...
And as I look around, all I see is white.
As I look around, I look for a home tonight.
Copyright © Joe Curtis | Year Posted 2006
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