Caged Souls
In the dawn’s hazy light, I see them,
The weary souls trudging forth,
Faces etched with half-slept weariness,
Their spirits longing for escape.
In this bustling cityscape,
They gather at public transport stops,
A sea of bodies, disenchanted,
Each lost in his own solitude.
Empty shells, surviving but not truly living,
Bound by the shackles of routine,
They move through life like mechanical beings,
Heartbeats synchronized to the ticking clock.
