City-Dwelling, Unwillingly

The plight of the hopeless man

Pleading for patronage at the highway on-ramp

Staggering to his feet, waving a wand in his hand

Forcing it through the ground.

To convince them, to convince himself

He's in a state of desperation.

Stomping his feet 

To an echoless beat;

An earnest declaration muffled by layers of concrete.

No one turns a head,

No one's eyes to meet.

Mere passerbys

Perhaps under the influence of apathy,

Or an inability to contront the brutality of a potential reality

To which we are all disposed to.

He goes on regardless -

Paralyzed by the catharsis of his own song,

Willing us to right our wrongs.