City of Ironies

Its porticos are architectures that are tilting towards the clouds

But on backs, shanties on the banks slanting towards the river

Half naked gent sat on the piece of wood with unpaired footwear

Turning his heads to the cruise about to touchdown the port

 

Highways above your head expressed their grandeur and vanity

But a lad was walking bare footedly towards this pale track

Hoping to discover the falling gem from tiny-eyed folks

Who struck the horn of this glittery fresh burgundy wagon

 

Mall people moved like they’re so busy to choose the meal

But I saw the murky child from the bulk of foul cask bin

In his hand the thigh bones of the thrown messes elsewhere

From the golden plates of the teen diets remained at the table

 

Drops of water from cooling devices from the sixth floor

But the mendicant slept under the narrow canopy of the edifice

More than wintry dusks outside that absorbed in his misty clothes

Although the sports car engine in his side warmed this outskirt

 

The teller used both fingers to feed the counting machine

But the poor granny kept on turning around to look the rusty coin

To exchange these silver currencies for a scoop of grains

That this shopkeeper locked always with the fear of thieves

 

Navy blue and white constables wandered around the place

But someone lost her minuscule pendant inside the jeep

Even though fake jewel that came from the sidewalk malls

Enforcers arrived to the vicinity three hours later

What are you looking for?