in this busy concrete jungle
that i hunt and gather in
all the gray that's on display
bores deep into the skin

changing the pigmentation
from tones of flesh to pasty white
with the only light source being
that of florescent stars at night

as reflections in the windows
stare blankly into space
somehow have lost their purpose
in the running of the race

i look confusingly around me
at the rush just to fit in
thinking i need a different jungle
to hunt and gather in