The City


Street performers dance and sing,
disturbing people's quiet thinking,
interrupting their loud thoughts,
and echo through their ears.

People rush and shove,
through the loud, loud crowd,
do they rest through the night?
For this is the city,
people do not rest,
until their work is done.

Rats scurry underneath,
the big, big black street,
they squeak, squeak, and squeak,
until they find their food.
But when they do not,
they come into the day,
scurrying by our feet.

Cars honk their horns,
and stop at the big bright lights,
waiting for people to pass,
across the dirty road.

Nobody understands,
how little you can be,
in such a big city.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem