Tell me, skyscraper,

How do I look from up there?

I, one of many,

Who can’t touch your clean air?

Do you even bother

To lean your shadow aside

To not crush the ants

That walk at your side?

Tell me, sky scraper,

With your brow in the clouds,

Why do you bother

To care for the crowds?

You shine your belly

To all below

So they’ll look, 


As you absorb

Any means they give,

Any means they afford.

Tell me, Skyscraper,

Why do I climb your floors?

Will the effort be worth it?

Will my books be in stores?

Is there gold or glory

In the clouds floating by?

Yet your lights, how they shine

From up so high.

I’m told they are true.

Success not a lie.

Yet drop, I may,

From you sKy sCraPer high,

Lured in by the view,

Lured in by the sky.

But still, I write,

To the glow way up there.

So that you can see,

what I’ve come to bare.

But tell me, skyscraper,

Are you worth all this fuss?

All this effort to climb you,

Is it even a must?

Because I am so small

And you so, so tall,

And you can’t even hear

My little voice

At all.

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