The City

The knock that battered at my door
in the wee hours after the sun had long left,
A knock of indifferent disregard and
and carefully bred impatience
Forced my eyes open, forced my legs to stir, forced my fingers to pull open the latch…
And there I saw a sight so strange as to pull me out of my sleep-soaked daze.

For before me stood a creature –
A sight so repulsive in its overworked “simplicity”.
With loud robes swirling in the wind – a patchwork of styles:
Shimmering into different forms –
Now old, now young; Now rich, now poor;
Its eyes, dark as the clouds that gobble up the moon.
Forever trapped lay the darkness of the night –
Impenetrable to even the brightest starlight.
And my face twisted into the perfect blend of contempt and condescension.

His mouth now creaked open, spewing volumes of dust,
And a great rumbling noise did I hear:
“There is a time,” he said,
“When I am plentiful and rich”
And suddenly I looked around,
Found myself in Paradise –
Large gardens with the sweetest flowers,
Quaint villas of red and white,
Malls glittering with the light of desire.
A place shining with hope and joy.

“Does it make you smile?” He asked, with a smirk –
The perfect blend of contempt and condescension.
And suddenly I found myself in a place stark as could be,
Low-roofed huts falling to the floor,
The tears of hunger and pain raw in the air,
The shrieks of women resounding from the dark alleyways around.

A confusion lit upon my face,
I turned to the creature,
In my eyes – an appeal to leave.
Suddenly I was home, in a warm bed,
The smell of wealth all around.
I soon fell asleep, my dreams – a whisper:
“And still you complain…”
I lay repulsed by my own indifferent disregard,
What had the City done to me?