Hey guys. This is a poem I wrote about life in the city, and the way America is all about rushing and not looking back. Enjoy and please criticize!
People are walking
Along the crowded streets they rush, only
Stopping for the speeding cars
They rush past the poor musician playing
Beautiful music, for they are too busy
going places.
The homeless man sits next to the musician, thankful
For his blanket as he searches for hope.
Everyone is different here, but they appear
The same in their suits- these crowded streets
could be more than just a city
These rushed people cry out to be more, more
Than a blur of unspoken colors.
Each one has an unheard story
An America that is hidden, untouched
I am young, but I have seen the people walking
Along the crowded streets, some envy
How fast these people walk.
I envy the homeless man, who walks slowly.
2007-08-03
11:52:31
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17 answers
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Poetry