Traffic flows through the streets
mimicking the tiny, volatile cells of our bodies
submissive to the whims of the changing lights
Futures squirm from the safety of their wombs
the culmination of a lusty union of destiny and fate
a susceptable fetus ripened amidst monetary greed
Numbers wake to the dull pulse of bedside alarms
tired eyelids strain open to spark their stoic minds
like zombies they rise, to carry out their meaningless lives
The decrepit lay solemnly as a dejected testiment of vigor lost
young aspirations left withered in a porcelain pot by the window
their forsaken seeds flourish not far from the tree