Dusty streets.
Shouts from shopkeepers,
Street children,
Beggars.
Horse and cart blocking access.
Smells of food and drink.
Shouts, fights, cries, tears, death.
Tar, hot, melting,
Radios blareing.
Street children,
Beggars.
Trucks blocking access.
Smells of gasses and fumes.
Shouts, fights, noise, gun shots, death.
A thousand years,
A thousand times.
Ages change.
Old ideas give way to new.
Sweet meats give way to processed nothings.
A thousand years.
Everything different,
Nothing changes.