Engineer.

All night, elevators climb the inside of buildings.
they spin round and round
waiting for you, engineer.

steel perfection is your ideal
wires strong and sturdy.
standing still while passengers of each season
aboard your carefully crafted work.
and they are pulled, up and down.
passing floors,
you wait in the basement.
'till the red light is illuminated
above the desk at which you so carefully work.

oh engineer, please be truthful.
i watched you carefully,
as you froze all of your calculations,
all of your equations.
oh engineer, solve me.
gone are all of the trees outside of the window,
placed on the wall
beside the red light
above the desk
at which you so dedicatedly slave over.

those trees were young
as you tended to tainted wires.
and their limbs grew
as you searched for simple calculations
and they became old
gawking at sparrows which rest on their extremities
as you watched
and spotted things you thought needed fixing.
soon they were free
no longer outside your window.
late at night, behind the locks
you exist among the floor boards
and quietly you sit, trying to find a way

to become as free as the trees.
oh, engineer.