The city streets are not paved with gold.
Everywhere civility is cold.
Pavements covered by human form.
Overcrowding is the norm.
Pollution from the motor filled streets.
Uninvitingly my lungs greets.
People look sickly unhealthy.
People poor and some wealthy.
Stray cats and dogs and scruffy foxes.
Down and outs live in cardboard boxes.
City life is not for me.
Greener fields i do see.
I return to the green countryside.
And there my time on earth i peacefully bide.
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Author:
Wallace (
Offline) - Published: January 11th, 2018 02:19
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 44
- User favorite of this poem: pots-and-pans.
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Comments1
Good write, there is something so wonderful about being in the countryside.
Thank you.
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