PROSE POEM
Skyscraper’s Soliloquy, And The Hut
A Developing Bond in a Changing Cityscape
As the faint twilight lingered on, a conglomeration of various lights,
neon, sepia, and white started twinkling throughout the bustling city,
The twenty-storeyed skyscraper looked towards the horizon,
a thick layer of fog engulfed some of the higher spaces of its existence or were they mere clouds?
wayward clouds, who lost their way when a momentary bundle of wind caressing their cotton skins pushed them away from their pathways and plunged them in a completely new direction,
and here they are,
facing this giant skyscraper, and wondering what to do next.
The skyscraper smiled at the clouds,
you can hit me and break into multiple clouds, perhaps, and then again re-join into the originality once you cross me,
some parts of you may probably enter an open window, and navigate through the rooms, or office spaces, tingling the senses of an employee seeking inspiration for that poem that his imagination couldn’t fathom,
maybe this flowing piece of dreamy cloud could be that trigger.
