The City of Angels

A Poem by Bijal Shah

Photo by Paul Hanaoka on Unsplash

Smoke and mirrors belie this land of dreams

Ugly road and streets occupied by the homeless

The promise of fame and money streams

Only accessible to a minority, the majority living in distress

I visited with high hopes, imagining a glittering haven

Yet all I could smell was rotten capitalism

Chasing anyone who could be bluffed by the media maven

Disappointed I travelled far and wide to be proved wrong, only to be filled with skepticism

The rich live in the hills, far removed from any debris of the wounded city

Their lives an oasis of luxury, peace and stardom

A strange place where classing and snobbery inspire society

A dystopia where media moguls build their kingdom

The common man feels robbed, poor and inadequate

Inspired briefly by a movie or story fabulously told

Traffic-filled streets, expensive housing and parking signs that berate

Distracting billboards and the nearby ocean leaves one temporarily consoled.

Who would have thought a city once starved of water

Would become the mighty media capital of the world

Lucky is the city of angels, built by immigrant settlers

It must pay it forward now, this much it owes to its people.