Wind
racked side-walks
Fume
filled and littered
Sound-backed
by man and machine
Echo
with nostalgia’s dirge.
Restless,
forlorn walkers,
Minds-closed
to humanity
To
earth’s inbred beauty,
Walk
the monotone paths past
Smirched
window panes and
Dust
painted doors locked
To
nature’s whispers seeking the soul.
Let
the sirens cry for the people,
Let
the air-conditioning
Sing
their song
Let
the musac be their
Call
to prayer
But
let me for freedom long:
City
let me go
I
do not belong.
Nov
2011
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