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In a busy life,
Things to do, passing thoughts,
Amongst the neuro chaos of our lives.
Amidst the rush,
The urgency to accomplish nothing,
The rush and wait syndrome,
Without the wait.
Everyday there should be a moment,
Where time loses consistency.
Take a deep breath and observe.
A city bird melodically chirps,
Noticed by those with time.
Beads of sunlight,
Penetrate the city’s smog,
Like elongated prisms of subdued light.
Dancing across buildings,
Like some live opera,
Moving with seductive ease.
As the swirl of ordered chaos,
Giving volatile life,
To this man made killing by product,
Of laziness for convenience.
But when you close your eyes,
And exhale,
Do you see the bird, perched?
High on a windowsill amongst the clean air.
Do you see the sunlight?
Spoiled by urban excretion.
Do you see the cancerous cloud?
Entering the lungs of those who breathe.
I stopped,
Looked around,
Listened awhile,
Observed my world.
The rubbish on the floor,
Graffiti covered walls,
Verbal language of obscenities,
Children high and looking 60.
No-one cares,
Can only see the mistakes,
Take an idea and call it their own.
Parents arguing,
Over their children’s quarrels.
I think to myself,
No wonder there is so much hate,
Nothing changes without conflict.
No wonder we can’t win anything,
If we are at war with each other.
How are we supposed to care?
For those in need miles away,
When our own die in our streets.
How are we supposed to have trust?
When parliamentary promises,
Have two meanings.
No wonder no one can agree,
We all interperate differently,
Because we are all unique,
But we all want the same thing.
(c) Byron McAlpine
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