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