Part one: The White Collar Parade 

The smell of money on them

More pungent than liquor

Their suits, creaseless

Neatly folded like bank notes

from a robbery

An army of uniforms;

The white collar parade

Filtering in and out of

the cobbled chaos

I try to dodge them all

Bullet through the air

Without a care

A rainbow flash

In monochrome

~

Part two: The City that Coughs You up and Spits You out 

Each day, I pass the homeless man by

Just one of many

In the city that coughs you up

And spits you out

Little does he know

I’ll be leaving this place for good

Packed up and fed up,

Dragging my career behind me

We exchanged a glance

But no words

His sky blue eyes looked up at mine;

Pained and questioning

I walked on, like I always do

Wondering who was feeling more sorry for who