This is the first time I will record a conversational poetry piece done by my friend and I. I was just casually asking for a caption for a photo, and it ended up a poem. The spontaneity of the piece made it even more pleasing, because neither of us talked about what to write next. Everything was fluid, and the outcome was nice. Many thanks to Icia for this fun poem-turned-conversation.
She looked out the window marveling at the city’s landscape. Wondered at the pollution and beauty of construction and deconstruction.
The only difference between her and the dreaded world was a sheet of glass. What could starry gazes and silent dreams do to shape and change the ever-sprawling urbanization?
The skycrapers shooting up left and right choked more beings than the thick, dark smog that hung in the air.
Sadly she could not tear her gaze from the rising buildings. The blocked out the stars and hid the moon from her sight. She thought of balance.
It would shield her from the dull ache in her chest and the emptiness in her heart. She thought of better days and fresher air. Of clear nights where she had someone to embrace. All she had now was a thin blanket around her shoulders and a shadow of a past she wished to forget.
“Better days” was a rarity, more coveted than blood diamonds. One would ironically seek the worst of solutions – to kill just to have better days. It seems everything has been tagged with a price. Money was of little to no value in this trade of life.