The City Poem by Pete O'H

they are funeral cars
i know they are, but where are they going?
they travel in a deathlike procession, but where do they lead?
but of course, the graveyard of steel
the cars follow one another to the cemetery metropolis
the skyscrapers are tombstones, but whose are whose?

constant, uneven chatter
do they talk? no, they are too sullen; it is the fall of rain
melancholy rhythm, completing the dead mood
the drops are so loud, why?
ah, the lake of no reason, the raindrops cry as they fall into it
does each dropp even mean anything, when put together?

a depressing community of nothing
even altogether, the drops form only a gloomy gray lifeless lake
do they even know, that they add up to nothing?
what is my part in all this futility?
am i a grave one at the funeral,
or just a dropp in the lake?

No! I am a bird flying high above the city
I am the only one alive; I can see the sun!