Tower Block Poem by Gert Strydom

It rises into the sky,
covered in glittering scales
somewhat ominous and hideous
shining and black,
build to withstand an earthquake
with intersections pale white
it rises almost to cloud height

and within you will find almost a whole city,
with pretty shops,
witty people in offices,
people that work and play and live and stay
using the elevator highway

and safe and secure,
they go nowhere else
and do not worry about anything, anywhere
somewhat like a huge ants nest
where people stay until their final rest

and they are cursed and blest,
with lives maintained,
determined and ordained by big machines
that constantly calculate, entertain
and people remain as if detained
to its environment from birth to their decline
when they disappear as if they never were existing.

© Gert Strydom