Young, petite women line the halls of the lobby.
The building has 82 stories, 82 sets of sinning eyes.
Old men in suits and ties adorn the offices.
An aura of corruption persists.
Dreams ardently pushing each other
Out of the way they go.
Half empty flasks of vodka and half empty Alprazolam boxes
Are everyday essentials in NYC life.
The women walk, one by one, to the bathroom.
They come out, one by one, like a parade of angels.
They’re beauty incarnate.
They’re sin.
The security guard rises from his chair.
He’s looking at her ass.
She sees him looking.
She grins, a smile unseen by the others.
Smiling isn’t allowed here, nope.
“Not in a million years” says the redhead.
They are majestic creatures,
Yet they are fallacious.
Illusions created to entrance men.
Modern day Sirens.
Their song is in their eyes,
And their victims? Urban sailors.
They smile shyly at any man who crosses.
Their sensuous irises do the work for them.
A man in an old brown suit approaches.
“Come with me, please” he coerces his way into their minds.
The concrete jungle is no place for naivety.
The concrete jungle is no place for ethics.
The concrete jungle is no place for charity
The concrete jungle is a place
Where apathy comes to bloom.
-
Author:
Dandy the Poet (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 20th, 2016 00:08
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 39
Offline)
Comments3
VERY INTERESTING..WELL WRITTEN...TRUTHFUL...NICE JOB!
Thank You!
Truly enjoyed this piece.
Thanks, I'm glad! 😀
Really well written excellent write
Thank You! Glad you think so!
Welcome
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