Concrete Garden

Sirens singing lullabies at two AM. Another lonely night making friends with the mayhem.

The rent is too high and the ceiling is low. And I've got

nowhere else that I really can go. But look at the crack in

the sidewalk there. A little yellow flower breathing the air. I'm growing a

garden out of concrete and gray. Finding a little bit of color

in the fray. It's not perfect, it's messy. It's loud and it's gritty.

But there's a heartbeat hiding underneath this city. My concrete

garden. Blooming anyway. Subway faces, everyone's in a rush.