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Sadness in this city

There is sadness in this city:
in its bumpy streets,
in a cloudless sky that’s empty
of all the opposites of sorrow,
in the lamps with no power,
in the darkness that mirrors our daily lives,
in the depths of a sea that embraces both loved ones
and the tears of those who lost them,
in trees so dry only trunks are left,
in every grain of sand that holds the memory
of someone gone before their time,
in dreams dreamers are not allowed to dream, much less grasp,
in houses, partially standing, exposing their skeletons of iron bars,
in silence redeemed by the ever-present buzzing of drones
and the roaring of the power generators,
in hearts more broken than healed,
in eyes that water with pent-up longing,
in smiles that only show how good we are, at bottling this all up.

_We are no numbers.

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