In the city of broken clocks Time forgets poor man's name. Children trade their laughter for warmth empty flames. Streetlights blink in morse code whispering secrets hunger while glass towers drink sky and earth below grows younger. The rivers run with ink debts currents pulling prayers downstream. Billboards sell invisible cures to sick inside a dream. A mother stitches borders into hem her son’s skin as flags grow teeth passports bleed — war is always within. Mirrors reflect thousand faces but only one crowned king. rest are ghosts daylight voices paper-thin. man kneels on sidewalk sign: *I am you another storm*. But umbrellas pass like satellites orbiting dry warm. this city words currency. Truth costs more than lies. And justice tired beast chained courtroom’s sigh. Yet somewhere beneath rubble discarded names seed splits stone. heartbeat learns call itself home. I poet fractured dawns gather syllables fallen leaves. For every voice denied its breath I write so someone grieves.