Wheels stretch their voices into the distance
Wind pushes aside a stoplight as it tries to cross the street
But the Sidewalk is lonely feeling cheated from it's purpose.

"Where are the feet," It fumes "I was promised!"

Doors brag of their over usage
Buildings groan in a fit of pleasure over their lack of space
But the sidewalk is left to build up anger, so much that one is not able to set foot on it's cracks.