This is a poem that was pressed on my heart for this amazingly coulorful, vibrant city while we were there...
Your veins are crawling with creatures that eat
that lay you bare in your joys and sorrows
your dry throught shouts for better tomorrows
as your heart is cast out to the city street
Out of this dry dust and desolation
in the strong beats of the synchopation
streetlamps stand that lift to the sky
doorways to truth and awnsers to why
You clothe yourself in cheap garments
and sit like young birds in greener felds
your featherless bodies cry out for parchment
and small boken bones cry out for a shield
But still babies laugh, grass grows on old roofs,
earth yearns beneath feet and holds breath as it moves
for though you don't see it and it's plainness is might stun
you lay nestled in the pivotpoint of the rising and setting Sun.