Urban Soul

So much to do,
so many places to go,
but I have to say “no,”
because the hood made me so.

Locked up in my room,
the ceiling is my moon
when it is gone past noon.
Even the person next room
does not care whether I’m doomed.

Fingers on game pad,
I’m gaming till I’m mad.
It isn’t my fault that I’m bad,
and to be glad I need to kill sad.

Like a squirrel,
I have learnt to steal nuts;
stacking nuts in a barrel,
until everyone goes nut.

I’m a solitary legend,
a mouse at a dead end,
wishing that I could ascend
the ladder of the depend.

And like a stamp
the urban signature
is on me so damp;
permeating my every nature.

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