Monday, November 17, 2014

Personal Pulsations



So many leave the country,
To find their place in the world…
Swept away in a heartless city,
One’s fate is where they’re hurled.

The cities have a rhythm
It ebbs and flows; a moon drawn tide
We are anonymous in the millions,
Yet still no room to hide.

The view outside my window.
Is a colorful electric dance…
Throngs of others like myself,
Followed the current for one chance.

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