what now

what now sometimes its cold and it feels like the sun never rises here and yet it does not so much on the green much of the city is rubble not from broken dreams but broken lives in search for the dreamless dream in maniacal psychadelic fashion the people of this city shed their dreams for the collective dream that is this city if the famous wall was a mirror in what shade would it color the ugly reflection what time of day for a city so well known for the darkness which person cause you can get lost in it too and that seems to be the charm yet all is quiet and the broken lives are left to be picked up by sobering insomniacs without any names