Rush

Concrete jungle where fear grows like

Vines, twists itself around beating hearts

And shakes apart firm foundations

Of assurance, built with the dirt

And grime of thousands of hands,

Eager to touch a part of a future that

Is yet to be seen.

But the sky is hidden from view,

And dreams are a thing of the past:

Lost in the throng, drowned in the

Endless walk of many

Who don’t know where they’re going,

Just that they need to get there

Fast.

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