Broken Lot

Stare from the balcony, onto a broken lot. time has been unkind, to its black top pavement and yellow paint lines. Green sprouts through its cracks. No flowers, just mangled grass. Fighting, sputtering nature. Reminding us that while it struggles, the Earth cannot be beat. Quiet, dull lights on billboard signs. A shimmering city left dim in early mornkng sun. The sky makes light of our dazzling jewels and towering accomplishments. What we've taken for our pleasure, is left flat and meaningless. The broken lot bakes in the hot sun. It'll turn to dust if it cooks any longer.