The street is swapped with bodies
Young, old and grey
A sea of strength and weakness
Soft, eager and fragile

These streets are filled with vehicles
3-wheels, cars and motorcycles
Vast need for speed with myriad speedometers
A different sense of focus, smothers!

Our focus is just to hustle
Be a cobbler, doctor or apostle
Variants of professions, you just have to shuffle
Not the best serenity, man just settles

We focus on vanity,
I wonder if we check deep within
The goal is to reach the top.
We often forget the master of the race herein

We lose our hearts to the matrix
Most times we even forget the margin
The apocalypse is yet to come
Yet we forget, it's most catastrophic

Have You looked within?
What are you yet to see
Is it the future you seek
Or deed incomplete?

Did you notice how much rest you need?
Or how anti-social you have been.
How much you seized to live though Alive
Have you noticed how badly you lost to Hustle?