Waiting for my bus.
The air feels weighted; thick arduous smog billowing from metal monsters, trapping suns heat in clouds of dark repression. I wonder if they notice, the people shuffling by. Off to work they go, toiling to maintain this brick and mortar existence. Chains and bars unseen. Their iron weight can be felt, only by those who care to feel. Fear not! To break these chains is to escape mediocrity, rise above the clouds and see all that is below, and only those who struggle will see this days rewards.