The Heartbeat of a City

In the depths of dawn, the city wakes,
Through tangled streets, its body shakes.
A whisper stirs where shadows play,
The heartbeat quickens, another day.

A vendor hums, his cart piled high,
Selling dreams beneath the sky.
The baker’s hands, with flour white,
Knead hopes for bread before first light.

The young man runs, his tie askew,
Ambition fuels his morning view.
A crowded train, a bustling street,
Where strangers' lives each day compete.

The lovers meet at a hidden square,
A fleeting kiss in the morning air.
Among the chaos, their world stands still,
Two hearts aligned against the will.

The child skips past, her laughter bright,
A spark of joy in the city's plight.
Her painted hopscotch, a fleeting frame,
A fleeting innocence in life’s great game.

A poet sits on a park bench bare,
Sketching words from the city's stare.
He feels the pulse, the highs, the lows,
The city's soul in his verses flows.

But in its shadows, sorrow creeps,
The homeless man, where daylight sleeps.
His cardboard home, his weathered gaze,
A silent cry in the city’s maze.

The markets roar with life and trade,
A sea of colors that never fade.
Deals are struck, and bargains made,
In the heartbeat of this grand parade.

The lights ignite as the sun dips low,
The city glimmers in evening’s glow.
The workers pour from glass towers high,
To find their solace in the night sky.

The artist paints by candlelight,
A mural born of the city's fight.
With every stroke, a tale unfolds,
Of dreams half-lived, of hands gone cold.

The city never sleeps, it turns, it sighs,
Its heart beats on beneath dark skies.
Each life a rhythm, each voice a key,
Together forming its symphony.

For every dream and every despair,
The city's pulse is always there.
It lives through joy, it thrives through pain,
Its heartbeat steady in sun or rain.

And as the clock ticks through the night,
The city rests, then stirs to light.
A living, breathing entity,
The vibrant heartbeat of eternity.

- Khushi Kaul