sometimes i find myself stunned,
motionless in the midst of rush hour pedestrian traffic.
looking out onto the same old scene
wondering just who’s bad dream it is i’ve stumbled upon.

people come from everywhere to die on this city,
how can anyone feel like they are anything,
standing penniless on one of it’s countless street corners?

i was born to this town yet can’t quite call it home.
but there’s no where else i know to go.