Humanism may be rising, but I can't see our humanity everywhere..

Everywhere is dearth

Grime lost in the cracks

Falling through them

Eyes with out eyes

I can't write anymore

It is not a world for poets.

No mermaids came

Far away from life

In a place of the sane

Here the city has a voice

I try to remain positive

But ask myself 

Why is it I live

But to to live

The ghosts may not be zombies

But I still don't like them 

I sense no story 

And passion.