Who Loves Jakarta?

Jakarta is sick
Free and radical motorbikes
clot the veins of the city.
Wild and rampant buses
spread like cancer.
Fat blocks of malls and condos
cause high traffic pressure.
Rivers of trash recirculates the waste
and house parasites that leech money
off of sympathizers.

From within emerges a virus that has
long corrupted this urban jungle.
The virus that built this city
It eats away at itself

The Ego

Imagining the infinite number of conscious entities
Each one observing a different world
But their worlds will become similar
As most will merge into others
Their sense of self lost in a snug cirlce
They are safe but static

A few might drift in isolation
Occasionally penetrating some circles
But never stick
Carrying a burden too heavy
Too hard for sheep

Who cannot comprehend
That I am in awe of the self
Realizing the 1st person perspective
I am bewildered; the obersever

The thought is daunting and thrilling
That I'm truly alone