Poetry – the city of progress

Webs of smoke hung mid air

leaving the building-tops unfocused and seeming to go up forever

undeterred they swarmed clicking the wet asphalt creating an atmosphere of noise.

then silence.

no one in sight, an empty model of a city, unused.

occupying towers of concrete and steel, where they learn life is precious.

the real world tries to make contact, like a

flower peeping out of a crack in the pavement

only to be stepped on and put back in it’s place.

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