The Urban Philosophers

In the city's quiet corners, they gather round, Miniature men, lost in thought, their faces down. Their coats, a testament to the urban chill, As they ponder life, their stories unfulfilled. Their hands, a blur of motion, as if in flight, Their eyes, a window to the soul, shining bright. The wall, a barrier, a boundary they adore, A place to rest, to think, to be alone once more. Their world, a miniature, a reflection of our own, A tale of contemplation, of life unshown. In this small scene, we see ourselves reflected, A moment's peace, in the city's hectic respect. Their stories, untold, their dreams, unspoken, A glimpse into the lives, of those unbroken. The urban philosophers, lost in thought, A symbol of our own, introspective brought.