1971
Poetry
by Michael F. Nyiri
"91770 Express "
A gentle sunburst spreads the day with light
The small city of Rosemead emerges from night.
To small boys and girls this is just all right.
But to some there are feelings which aren't so bright.
Sure, we have our friends
And our activities
And our pride
And our love
But whose to say whether or not
There are some in this town
Who are not satisfied with the grind.
The sun and smog bothering your eyes.
The people who talk and betray all their lies.
The feeling that there's only one supreme
being in the form of the
all-mighty dollar that buys.
If you listen hard you can hear the cries.
Why is it that
This town and all others like it
Just seem to so flatly exist?
The world has some beauty
Hidden away somewhere.
It has to.
Doesn't it?
copyright 2006 by Michael F. Nyiri
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