Busy is the city,
Places to go, lights that glow,
What a pity,
That the city can't go slow,
Or stop to catch one fleeting breath,
Until death,
In the meantime it teems,
While cold hearts pass each other,
Frozen sounds it seems,
Caught on their lips,
No warmth to share,
No time to care,
Just places to go,
To and fro,
The city can't go slow,
With heartbeat that rocks,
Calmness it mocks,
Breathes out, breathes in,
No time to grin or make a friend,
What a pity,
That the city,
Races break neck speed,
And does not heed,
I think the city,
Should stop to rest,
But the city won’t listen,
It thinks I jest.
So it seems to outsiders who see only the big picture, but down the back streets and in the lanes there are quiet places of friendships and shared time, lots more time.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure I didn't paint an accurate picture for those who are residents.
ReplyDeletesmart words.
ReplyDeletecity busy, people busy,
nothing is easy.
Thanks, Ji, for coming by. I'll have to write describing the good points of a city.
ReplyDelete