A black suit stands stationary beneath changing stoplights Perpetual lights, they directed the flow of pedestrians and steel Years of unprecedented and overpriced nine to fives What did we invest in? The imaginary and monetary? High-speed introspect access to digital lives? A pixel perfect vision of steel invincibility that Rumor has some gray beards dreamed up Progression...What happens now? The black suit stands, covered in dust Amidst his crumbled castle of dreams Knocked down like a child's toy The rancid breath of decay grows thicker in the air Each day as he stands on the once prestigious corner ...The stoplights still change: green to yellow to red A song rings in his ears...Childhood lyrics now bring chills Echoing back the hollow sound of empty shoes "I want to be King of the hill I want to be Top of the heap" I want to be... A path is traced in the dust He is hit with the inverted shame of a clothed Adam Eager now to serve his stomach on a platter To the tiny, chapped hands of yesterday's pests Ash to Ash...Dust to Dust...The ingredients for cement A tainted building material for more walls That will only house naivety and attract graffiti As the homeless beg and shiver outside Repetition...What happens now? Caught in the claws oif claustrophobia An explosion tears through him A terrifying vision of crushed beings (Steel reality) An unceasing cycle of silenceBirth sign: Libra
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