the hollow glow of city lights
shine on fruitless futile pursuits
empty smiles and business suits
trash piles behind phone booths,
contracts, files, the destitute,
red lights, golden tooth,
searching for truth,
to only find lies,
when people lose their homes
what should they occupy?
try, for a second,
to walk in those shoes,
in a system designed to f*ck us all,
what do you think you'd choose?
don't confuse your luck,
for an inability to fall,
you say that just the way it is?
well that's just not your call.