Poem: Post-Modern Prayer

Such giant structures we have
The business sector
The heart of the city
Where the heartless see those in want
Of love
Of security
Where do these workers go
Where do they live
Glass and concrete make their
Visual feats of
Patterns that reach into the sky
And stab god
A standing monument to Gaia conquered
But where are the men who the bricks up by hand and hung on for dear life at breakneck winds while sitting on the throne of eagles
Does that sense of pride
Run through their spine
And brighten their eyes
As they walk by?
Or was it just a job
Another job.
Laying down brick and mortar
Of idols and gods
- Peter