A City

there’s a highway
apart of a city
with rows of empty houses
and closed doors
painted colors
I’m not sure if they were chosen
on account
of the rest of the others
when your silent
there’s a sound
only able to be heard
as you breath and let go
its were I live
inside this city
I don’t like the houses
because mine is broken
that highway
is meant only for those able to make it
this city
has no time to believe in
I’m having trouble
finding a reason
apart from all the last ones
I closed the doors on
every day
has me wondering
when will this city
let the one change it
have the many
destroy the highway
and make a new one
cycles not broken
never will we open
a door that might show them
beyond the city
a secret we hold on too
it has been written
maybe a new land
can excite the things I needed
a new vision
new scenery

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