Staring down upon the water that travels for miles beneath them,
the people dots of moving colour.
Cars blurring upon blackened road,
trees desperately trying to reach them.
Sky scrappers shoot through their changeability,
attempting to go higher than one should ever be.
They move and separate from those who created them,
forever changing neighbours and faces.
As the wind moves them unexplainably onwards,
they break away and stay half forgotten.
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