Blueprints Of Tomorrow Poem by Selena Mohammed

The city hums like a restless heart,
steel veins carrying the pulse of strangers
who dream in fragments—
coffee cups, subway echoes,
screens glowing with promises
too fragile to hold.

I pause at the corner,
watching a mural peel into memory,
colors fading but still defiant,
like someone whispering:
we were here,
we mattered.

Tomorrow is not a monument,
but a blueprint—
sketched in chalk,
smudged by rain,
redrawn by hands
that refuse to stop building.

And I,
with my pockets full of unfinished lines,
step forward,
knowing the world is nothing more
than a draft we keep revising,
until it feels like home.