In vast concrete structures

That overtake any semblance of nature

Is where the human soul-

​

Can now be found

So strangely attached to possessions

So endless that any sense of use-

​

Is ultimately lost

To the deep abyss for which

They so strangely could never fill-

​

But represent nonetheless,

As if to be loved

Could be quantified by price-

​

Or if sentiment

Could ever be replaced

By the consumerist spirit-

​

That has begun

Its final assault on a modernity

Where commodities-

​

Are now the truest form of expression

Not mirth or care

Nor ironically anger-

​

For the sentiment of humanity

Has been given a new form

So meaningless-

​

That it is no wonder why

Each and every soul has become

So deeply desensitized-

​

To the striking glare of postmodern inequality.