Concrete Jungle

I'm a little reluctant to post this, since I vaguely remember a poem of the same name being uploaded here lately, but I can't find it so I'm presuming I'm wrong. I'm not sure if the rhyme scheme really worked, but here it is anyway; Concrete Jungle Brown and muddy Dismal and grey All you can see when you look every way In a concrete jungle of creative decay We've built up these walls These rooms, these halls Ignoring our heart's eternal calls For jungles, fields and waterfalls We don't belong here, don't you see? We survived solely by the desire to fight or flee We didn't need bank loans, or a monthly fee We just needed food and the shade of a tree Some escape in a theatre, watch as fantasy unfolds Some revel in what the future possibly holds Some escape to the Arctic, braving the colds Some reside in a war zone, and the violence it upholds Yet I am here, sat at a computer Watching binary without a future Trying to remember all that we were In this concrete jungle where life's just a blur