Lost in this city I call
to the twinkle star minds
with a whisper
the crowds respond
with no words or time
We escalate down
on with thunder
Off with a shudder,
hurtling fast,
eyes asunder
I blinker my soul
with electric balls
feign satisfaction
eternally echoed
on virtual walls
Checking my phone
avoiding gazes
habitual life
Checking my phone
I might be crazy
End of the line
My soul advances
to a sky-high hiding place
nestled amongst feathery tweets
to watch cherry blossom rain
cherish empty streets