I've grown to love these towers
Not for their height or shine,
But for the people they hold:
The night janitor singing to himself,
The analyst working past midnight,
Two strangers sharing elevator small talk,
A child pointing upward, mouth agape.
These aren't just buildings.
They're hives of humanity,
Thousands of hearts beating
Behind windows that catch
The same sunset I do.
Sometimes when I'm lost
In the canyon of avenues,
I look up and remember:
We made these giants with our hands,
Filled them with our dreams,
Our arguments, our coffee breaks,
Our Monday meetings and Friday escapes.
The skyline isn't steel and glass.
It's us—reaching, working, hoping.
And that's why I love big cities,
Not for what it is,
But for who we become within it.
@Freakstars