Chicago stands, smirking at his border states. A body full of life and power; who else could compare to him? Who could compare to his gift for spontaneously changing the atmosphere of a room no matter what Mother Nature says? Or to his abilities to pick out the best hotdog and pizza places for a hang out? And how about his glamour and personality that people have heard so many pleasant comments about?
How about his Sears Tower and Hancock building legs, giving him the height to look down upon the other cities? His perfect hair, slicked back to mimic the smooth curve of “the Bean.” His Lake Michigan wide smile that charms all to pull out their cameras and snap the beauty. A cool and independent rebel that walks his own path that no other has treaded on… but he has gotten lost.
He was too caught up in his appearance and is too arrogant to notice his internal flaws. He does not know that his self destructive behavior is causing his body and looks to fail him.
The organs within his body are unsynchronized. They close themselves off from each other, segregated, thinking that it is better to work independently and competitively than as one. Chicago forgets his identity, he forgets which sections build him up and which sections of himself he should avoid and fear. He tries to cover the disunity with his attractive appearance.
Chicago is wounded, but it seems like no matter how he changes his lifestyle the wounds will not heal. His cells, his people, die rapidly as he takes in more and more toxicity. He is the only thing hurting himself. He is aware that it is his own body and cells he is injuring but he can’t help it. He has lost himself to the corruption and hurting his body has turned into a habitual action. He injects himself with violence, crime, poverty, and fear; then he sits back and allows the drugs to do their work.
“Chiraq.”
He smirks at the nickname that he has been given and even answers to it. Who else has a nickname that can compare to his?
Deep down he knows he needs help, he knows that his issue is not getting any better. Chicago knows he is completely lost on his dark path, but to him it seems that there are no lights bright enough to illuminate his path to redemption.
A Words Shaker 