Sunset

38 4 1
                                    

The sun rose higher to kiss the sky

Then fell, and fell, with a silent goodbye

The day became dead

And the sky bled deep red

And what am I doing? Releasing a sigh

 

For I cannot see this without seeing again

The mountains of concrete and ten thousand men

Then night swallows all

Though the light did not fall

And where is it shining? On the high mountain-den

 

And the stars—of wishes and poetry soft

No longer in indigo are they aloft

They now can be found

Much closer to ground

Perched on metal necks, they now are oft

 

Shining so stagnant, as the cars hurry past

Even through the midnight the rushing does last

They hurry and go

And I do not know

What happened to leisure, and fine, stand aghast

 

At my small town pinings so different, so queer

In this repeated cycle that you hold so dear

But mind! As you rise

Just see through the eyes

Of the village boy, who heard and heard about here:

 

The place they call a city, where everyone’s connected so

But this place they call city, is lonely row on row.


AnarchyWhere stories live. Discover now