A Manhole Cover

I step outside, asphalt holds its breath,

steam rises, a whispered threat.

The manhole cover, shiny and wide,

mirrors the pressure, the chaos inside.

Cracked streets weave stories beneath my feet,

a pulse of the city, a rhythm discrete.

Each rumble and hiss from the underworld's fight,

reminds me of burdens we keep out of sight.

In the heat of this moment, I feel the heat rise,

like boiling points hidden behind all the lies.

A reminder, the weight that we carry each day,

can sometimes push us too close to the fray.