Unhappy city

In shadows cast by towers tall,
A city stands, its spirit small.
Amidst the rush, a heavy air,
A melancholy, lurking there.

Concrete veins, they intertwine,
Through streets where dreams have ceased to shine.
The neon lights, they flicker dull,
A symphony of sorrow, full.

Unhappy city, lost in gloom,
Its heart consumed by endless fume.
The laughter fades, replaced by sighs,
As weary souls with vacant eyes.

Beneath the weight of endless hours,
The city crumbles, its vibrant powers.
Once bustling streets, now silent, still,
An echo of dreams unfulfilled.

The parks once filled with children's glee,
Now barren trees, a ghostly plea.
The playgrounds empty, swings unswung,
A hush descends, like death's own tongue.

Unhappy city, burdened soul,
Where hope retreats, and dreams grow old.
The people yearn for something more,
Yet trapped within these walls they bore.

But deep within the city's core,
A spark remains, a flicker sore.
A few who dare to dream anew,
Seek paths uncharted, skies so blue.

They plant the seeds of change and light,
To break the shackles of the night.
With every step, they strive to heal,
The wounds that time could never seal.

Unhappy city, take heart and see,
The potential of what could be.
Unleash the dreams, let them take flight,
And bathe your streets in vibrant light.

For even in the darkest hour,
A city's spirit holds the power,
To rise above the despair and pain,
And find its joyful self again.