(Alone)
Above me pigeons coo, helicopters pass, clouds drift by.
Around me, people go to work, cars honk, the city lives.
Beneath me lies the cold, hard concrete. I feel the distant rumble of the subway cars zooming below. I hear the faint squeaks of the rats searching for some scraps for their next meal.
People joke together, they talk together, they laugh together, the look at each other.
Yet none of them stop to look at me.
I'm surrounded by all this, yet I’m hopelessly alone.
I cry for help, to get no answer.
The world keeps going, no care for me.
My cries, they land on deaf ears.
I'm a ghost.
A specter.
A phantom.
A remnant of the past.
This concrete jungle took me in, it chewed me up, and it spit me out.
Like some gum you'd buy from a cornerstore.
A police car cruises by, almost like a tiger hunting for its prey.
I used to be like everyone else.
Had it all going for me. I had a loving wife, kids, a nice home, a good job, life was great. Until I got the call down to my boss’s office that day.
Then, I had nothing. Just like that, everyone and everything I cared about was taken from me.
Now all I have left is this small, old cup.
I lift it.
Just waiting, just hoping for some chance at redemption.
Then I hear it.
I hear the chance for a new life.
The sound of some change falling into the cup.
Many of my ideas for various poems such as this one come from the way I think or view the various stories. . .
I try to come up with stories that I can potentially bring to the big screen someday if I were to make it big in my major -- which is filmmaking had it not been obvious enough!
I try to think realistically & come up with things that would actually be possible to do on screen in a film.
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