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The Concrete Forest
July 7, 2014
I live in a concrete forest, with trees that stretch so high that not even the sky can hold them. With busy, bustling metal bugs rushing along memorized paths. An unofficial hive mind, working in unity. I live in a manmade jungle. My crickets are car horns, my lightning bugs are street lamps, my rivers are streets. The noise that once kept me up, the sirens as persistant as cicadas, are now my lullaby to sleep. I am here, and I am content, in my concrete forest.
© Chris H., Honoka
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Mad Ones "and those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music"