City Life Bleeds On

The mentally ill have given up on us. Let loose they roam where once naked cowboys sang. It is the drugs it is the broken system it is the anger of strangers it rises like a concrete weed in our heads. The 'no nothings' can do nothing, the big chiefs in their native american Uber wagons ride around with closed minds, they talk through their noses, blow-harder than ever. Cops duck and dive. The mentally challenged are stabbing their sharp fingernails into the exposed necks of silent lambs. Subways are neglected, are badlands where only that brave dare to ride inside. City life sleepwalks on, but with one eye always open.