They built this too far from the city
Too far from the nearest town, too far from where people live
Too far from the highway and connecting roads
It's big and it's new and it's empty
As strange and different as nature is to the Internet generation
Filled in caverns with cubicles
Attracts short-tempered commuters honking their horns on too small backroads
And yes I admit that I'm above it all
Find the struggle squirming humanity engages in to be beneath me
Barely muster the effort to make a journey for a job
Knowing no other way to close the empty coffers
In a future century, this inconvenient structure overgrown with weed sits idle
Surrounded by a community that goes other places for work
To become a lighthouse
But their plans were dashed upon the rocks they day they opened this business park
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem