New York Facet 1

It’s morning now
Them New Yorkers hurried
Between cobbled pavements
And potholed routes
Stuffy subway stations
Littered tracks
Leaking ceilings
Does dreams began
With state of the art headphones?
Can life commute
Without common courtesy?
I ponder the pitter patter
As I gaze at their
expressionless faces
Looking over
them dusty windows..
.
.
.

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