Downcast City Poem by HB Rita

The city is sick today.
And it is infected by something invisible.
Dictatory winds, bright morning
In a cup of smoky tea in the late afternoon
Poisoned by specialized vision;
In Einstein's dead brain.
This disease is not pneumonia,
It is something that eats everything of thought, intellect, creativity, cerebrum.
This disease eats our senses.
This city today is in a devil's mood
Eats the power of values and merit
There is no sky in this city today
No birds are flying in the evening air
In a naked city, there is no definition of integrity
Here, just behind the fog across the yard,
the blooming flowers, carelessly cry!
There is nothing in this city today.