Year 2050

Population 10 billion.

A world reeling from epidemics,

grain supplies dwindling,

overpopulation,

the growing divide between

the haves and the have-nots,

AIs and virtual realities,

buildings taller and higher,

a future birthed from the

pains of the past,

the world a kaleidoscope of lights

and changes - a dizzying blur.

I sit in this hotel room,

and listen to hip-hop

on a Sunday afternoon.

I look back upon my Life

and mourn

for the core

that was never really there.

And all this time,

I pretended to put on a

smile, but belying

years of treading lightly

on a fabric so torn

at the edges, that

it threatened to come

apart with the slight

tug of the string.

And what is a girl

supposed to do?

I turned to alcohol,

I turned to men,

I turned to pleasure...

And I ask, Who is my father?

Anyone who will come along,

anyone who will embrace me,

anyone who will envelop me,

but what does that leave

me at the end of the day?

I am left with dust,

maybe even more baggage than

before.

Is this a game?

Who knows me

at the end of the day?

Who knows me

at the end of the day?