Friday, 8 April 2011

The City

The City with no pity,
hot and hard and thirsty
with multi-million dollar dreams,
and cheap illusions and dirty schemes;
A million screens that flicker the news
of money’s views a world away,
no time disturbs this day,
For the world never stops turning
on a yen, or a pound or a dirty dime,
no thoughts or hopes sublime
disturb the moment’s fixation on the moment
when money breeds money,
a virus in a chain.

Verdant hues of figures that flash before
an endless screen of bonds and cash;
Wealth that never knew a human need,
a dream, a scream of unreality
borne in a heart of greed.

It’s the Real World I hear you say -
Hard as a hungry whore;
Desire deeper than lust -
a need , a must to win
and failure the only sin;
The soul’s reflection in the gleam
of a limosine, an air,
a bold presumptive stare
with the face of wealth
and a heart of stealth;
Ambition with love in chains,
that spares no pains for those daily gains,
For those stocks and shares
and gaudy market wares;
A heaven and hell that turns
on a sell, the tolling knell
of a passing day a world away
The City, with no pity.

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