Does this city have any limits?
Is its grid beyond control?
Like a mold this city grows across an area
I used to call my home.
Trees replaced by structures, starry skies replaced by lights. If I didn't have my ties I wouldn't spend another night.
You should see how small we really are, how small we are.
Don't forget that.
Like the whitish streak of a jet gone by, something once was there I loved.
But, for now ill watch this ice as it forms on this glass as I know.
I'm off to better places.