Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2022
under the slanting rays
of the December sun,
silhouettes of this sin city
eke loneliness,
eating the timid
and spitting out carcasses.

its skies, ash gray
the refrigerated air moody
reminding wayfarers
that here is no place
to come seeking solace.

as apathy rains
sirens howl
and crime soars
the need to look over the shoulder
more pronounced than ever before.

the bottom line is
everyone’s looking to make money,
fast, furious and frenzied
in this,
my hometown- New York.
Written by
Rama Krsna  56/M/NYC
(56/M/NYC)   
2.3k
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems