this gritty, gravel street looks more like a spine
                     in the cast of the blinding white sun
that causes mirages to appear every next step, tripping you.
                     the rib bones lead to houses, and in each one resides
an empty brain, filled with
                     untainted, young ambition, that has never met the dark cloaked stranger
                     called "failure". They are all tied in with the central lungs, breathing
in unison, as one, programmed from the start to play
                    their destined part.
Dreams develop and gather, threatening to spill
                     out of their heads like tear-filled eyes. They all step
out of their houses as one,
                      not realizing the bones they believed to be their foundations
are all broken.