city rains fall soft,
old songs in new cafes play—
past smiles in present.
cracked pavement blooms weeds,
once bustling, now silent streets—
echoes mock the now.
ancient gears turn swift,
new tech blooms in old soil—
spring from seasoned roots.
in crowded rooms we stand alone,
ghosts at the feast of our own lives,
souls fed into the machine.
smiling wide but expecting low.
no comfort found in buzzing phones,
but a fleeting passion in finding an old foe.
flickering street lamps dim—
lost whispers among shadows,
for the new hymn.