Underneath the Wreckage


Subway station, empty/peaceful.
Yet my thoughts, immersed in chaos.

This city sleeps, though I hardly catch a wink.
Fellow men and women dying in the streets.

Can’t dispute we all bleed red,
but the darker your skin the more often bleeding happens.

An elderly woman moves over, to block me from taking a seat.
Not the first time, I’ve felt subtle, hot, contempt.

Can’t mind it, I’ve got calls to answer, files to update, bills to pay.
Just like everyone else.

The city sleeps, but I hardly catch a wink.
Filled with desire for more, for better, and far from at peace.

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