The day is done—
Clock strikes 4pm,
And it’s time to walk home, again.
It’s raining and cold.
I lock up my desk,
And head to the elevator
Ready to leave, say goodbye to this place;
Down 34 floors, exit to pavement’s freedom;
I pass the larger than life
Plato blue abstract statue,
Cardio up the hill,
Sadly, smell human waste
Coming from a small enclave
Of trees, where the homeless sleep.
I usually hold my breath and count my blessings.
I realize that any of us might easily become homeless.
I am grateful for my life and a place that keeps its warmth.
Then, I walk across the bridge,
Rush hour traffic stalled like a clogged artery.
Many cars, lights, and skyscrapers line the distance.
I like to think of the city as a heart in human body,
And the closer you get to its core, you can hear its blood flow.
Once past this point, I feel I can breathe again as the cells
Spread out more to my neighborhood, gentrified;
Pass the latest construction with a sign that displays,
“Affordable Housing for All.”
I have yet to see it.
Marijuana streams drift out windows,
There's the school overlooking to mountain's peak;
Just three more cross walks and I’ll be home, free.