I toil in this glass hall
With tiled floors and snug walls,
Glowing screens and polished people
All they talk is of plants’ time-
Ticking clocks and
Monsters belching smoke.
When I look for stars,
All I see are Hawkers;
Lucre is the only wonder.
Cool air is everywhere and yet,
My head is hot and I yearn
To be out gulping hazy air.
Free your mind and
Think out-of-box, they say;
Surely, they know this is a cage.