The city lights you put here
Did you realize they would yellow with time?
What about this building you erected
You knew maintenance would cost a pretty dime.
The trees controlled by landscapers
Their branches dent your cars
Water used to cool off in this heat
Will never be solid enough to call it ours.
This city was built to house an army
One which fights for green
Then home again after the busy workday
To dream of simple Sundays.
Is this cycle a battle worth fighting
Who is on the winning end?
Can dreaming of better resources
Be the way to win the game?
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