Suburban streets filled with baseball hats
People living in suburban flats
Cobweb shops filled with queues
People rushing round wearing out shoes
They are all rushing by
No one sees me cry
Car in jams at intersections
On corners people taking collections
Suburban garages filled with little cars
And people smoking big cigars
Archways hanging over loos
While cars pass in lines of twos
People pass with blind eyes
Telling stories in their sighs
Parking meters in military lines
Traffic wardens handing out fines
Suburban underground thoroughfares
Factories smoking skyward airs
Crowded corporation buses
Corner fish ‘n’ chips shops selling husses
Dozens of stuff collared shirts
Caught up in office works
Poor Porter on the trains
Trying to help passengers who complain
The busy town ignores
All who live in there
It turns its back
On old and young
And keeps its song
Hidden away and unsung
(date written unknown)
Great ending, David... and it's almost like people are too busy to care. Good stuff! Brian
I picture robots walking around in lines here.....lives in automation....with blank stares
A cold and rude awkening to the city life, the dark side of its moon, skillfully penned David One line so easily flowing into the next, NOW THAT'S TALLENT MY FRIEND! ! ! Love duncan X
Reminds me of Southern English town, the one I searched up and down looking for some advice. No luck I am afraid, please try again another time. Well written I caught the mood. Bob
Surburbia neatly caught... atmospheric, varied. A fine portrayal, with its subtle message. t x
Conjures up the diversity and anonymity of the modern city - where some emotional needs are over satisfied and some are starved. Richly evocative, with noise, smell, sight, movement all strongly catered for. Genuinely highly quality writing David. Loved this. jim
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I could see the place, in my mind has i read along...David 10 again...