Glass structures of shiny green notes
Humming into your ear "progress. wealth"
Little postcards and musings on post-its
Are all that remain of your life
In this cold barren jungle of steel.
A vivid memory, an object d'art--
Mere painful reminders of a forgotten vacation.
Meant to wander, brood on mildewed benches
You now occupy a "wheel" chair of misguided hope.
Swinging around, pen in mouth--
A helpless reminder of your tyre swing.
The air conditioning that plasticates
The monsoon breezes of yore.
You silently, deftly walk around a puddle that reflects
The flashback of a youth
Spent jumping right in, holding aloft marbles of victory.
What have you become now?
But a mannequin of expectations.
No different from the stories
You travel with, everyday.
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