The Concrete Jungle
Stillness.
Silence.
Darknes.
Mist swirling on the footpath,
Concealing every crack and seam,
Many minutes pass,
A long murderous scream.
Stone studded walls,
Dried up falls,
Each bleached by the moonlight.
Tonight we sit,
And stare and marvel,
At the forests of the concrete jungle.
This poem is about:
Our world