The City's Sad Symphony

I watch the prostitutes walk by,
Their tired eyes hidden
Under layers of makeup.
I can't help but wonder
If they ever dreamed
Of something more
Than this,
If they ever had a chance
To spread their wings.

I pass by the old factory,
Its smokestacks reaching
Towards the sky
Like the bony fingers
Of a forgotten god.
It used to be a place
Of dreams and sweat,
But now
It's just a graveyard
Of broken machines.

I stop by the liquor store,
Where the homeless
Gather like tumbleweeds.
They ask for change,
But the only change I have
Is the kind that jingles
In my pocket,
And even that's not enough
To drown out their pain.

In this city
Of broken mirrors
And shattered glass,
The only thing
You can count on
Is the sound of sirens.
They wail through the night,
A constant reminder
That danger lurks
In every dark corner,
And no one
Is safe.

But still,
I walk these streets,
Like a ghost
Searching
For a familiar face,
Hoping to find
Some semblance
Of meaning
In this chaotic world
Of lost souls
And missed connections.

I am just another
Dropped line,
A forgotten verse
In the city's sad symphony,
But I will keep on walking,
Because sometimes,
Even in the darkest
Of nights,
There's a flicker
Of hope.

And maybe,
Just maybe,
That's enough.