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Me, Myself and I
Me, Myself and I
The dreary faces of the soulless bodies walking around
They turn to see but do not
No one sees the children crying
Or the tired women and men coming home from their jobs
Though they hear beautiful music they judge it harshly
They see the people working hard but don’t take the time to stop
The cherry trees blossom in the coal colored night
No one wastes time enjoying them
Nor do they look at the beautiful petals drifting on to the cold grey pavement
But they thunder across it
As if they are the only people in the world who matter
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This article has 3 comments.
it's a good poem because she made it.
If I put a pen on the paper it will not move ahead to write something like this .