There is something about this city that makes men dream.
I walked the streets and looked up at skyscrapers
at people dressed in suits, ties, dress skirts, heels and overcoats
whispering to me of status, wealth and comfort.
It is after all the city of the free, city of opportunity, city of
diverse women. Don’t mistake me for a player,
I just love the presence of them. But
something about this city makes dreams just that,
dreams. Those whispers now crescendo into shouts
of rent, of debt, of mental health, of overwork. So I ask,
is this the reason our family came to this country?
To work ourselves to death for some
intangible dream.
