Tailored Dreams and Tattered Realities
In tailored suits that hug the form,
A businessman strides, exuding charm.
Briefcase in hand, he’s on his way,
Chasing the dawn of a brighter day.
Polished shoes click on the city’s grind,
With visions of fortune and power in mind.
He navigates crowds with purposeful grace,
While the world sees his polished face.
He buys a cup of coffee to wake him up,
But just a block down, in a world apart,
A homeless man sits with a weathered heart.
Tattered clothes drape his weary frame,
Invisible dreams wrapped in silent shame.
His eyes tell stories of battles fought,
Of lost opportunities, of hope for naught
On cardboard canvases, he sketches the sky,
Each faded star a whisper of why.
He steals a bottle of Vodka to warm him up
Yet as the businessman races toward the prize,
The homeless man watches with knowing eyes.
Two paths diverged in a city of light,
One chasing fortune, the other, the night.
In a world that prizes the polished and bright,
Both carry burdens, though hidden from sight.
For wealth and for want, they share the same street,
In the dance of existence, where heart beats
In the streets of the city where duality glared
Two strangers, same humanity shared.
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