The City I Love

Walking the grey cement
Stepping over cracks and forgotten pennies,
But stepping on the piece of gum
Blacken with the grim of the street.
Stopping for a moment to watch the people
Scurrying like animals,
To and fro; coming and going
This pattern creates a rhythm,
This rhythm becomes a beat,
The beat becomes the soundtrack of life.
In herds they travel-
For safety, for comfort-
They are trapped in this grey jungle;
Of metal, steal and concrete;
Of noise and crime,
The air thick with dirt.
But they breathe the thick air-
They breathe the jungle;
They live the jungle;
Are the jungle.
The jungle is them-
Together they are one,
Intertwined and tangled
As much as the piece of gum to my shoe.
This concrete jungle is mine,
And I am hers
Perhaps we all call her home

Reviews

[[untitled]]

Wow! I really like this poem... seriously. I like your descritptions and how you use the metaphors and stuff in it... yeah, I'm probably using boring English class terms, but it's really good. "Blacken with the grim of the street" and "concrete jungle" are probably my favorite parts.

[Ed Rector]

aw the concrete jungle perhaps my favorite two words together... i enjoyed this poem well done.