Half sleep and haunting dead-lines
With a cold heart and rushing mind
Fighting for my own brief limelight
Bearing the traffic and the crowds
Jostling to fight every single frown
Sore heart, false ego and attitude
I'm an Urban Monk with no gratitude
Filled to core with materialistic greed
Depressed, angry, overfed and obese
A ritzy condo in the concrete jungle
Everyone except me in city is fungal
Lonely heart calls for care and attention
I want some respect and little recognition.
This city is after all a wild, deadly jungle
With the meek preys and hunters mural
A smile can get me maim and paralysed
Beside me, in which soul can I confide?
This big city life I'm trying to get by
Pressurised in a cubicle cabin I quietly sigh.