Urban life
A world within itself,
Peppered with trips to the 'town',

Where senses are intrigued
Hyper stimulated,
With sticky sweet
Sight and sound,

Breezing by, a waft comes near,
Of posh ladies perfume
And burgers,

Burger eating ladies
Surely not,
But that is the image
I have got.

Earlier I could swear
There was a bus
And its exhaust was singing a waltz

As I danced along the pavement
Dodging salad,
Pigeons, cardboard,
And blood clots,

From the window with the chocolates
Of Madame de Barded,
To the doorway wafting hot air
And the smell of freshly baked bread,

It's a habit of sorts
These excursions,
Among hurried people
Harassed and hot,

It's not novel you see
I can get this,
At any busy spot

The shops spill out their tricks,
From a bottle they evaporate
Into the air,
Chosen that very same day,
By Dave from sales

And the Items that you can get
Are much cheaper on the net,
But it's not the same
Without the name
Of city

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