Dungeons entomb the spirit of the minute.
Further preventing the wealth to be shared.
The culture is unconcerned.
Paved over.
Focused on drive and crammed to the brim.
Keep distanced through turmoil.
Or eat the way out.
Hoping one day, someway, it will escape to breed another.
Until then, I’m just another New York rat.
Feasting on hopes.
Hounded with fares.