My City MAG

By Micaela Kamp, Woonsocket, RI

People walk by me,
Hurried, hustled, hungry.
Their words fly around my head,
Words of worry,
Words of anger,
Words of celebration,
They all pass by me
Without notice of my existence.

The birds beg at my feet,
Hoping to receive a scrap of food.
The stray dogs beg at the food stands,
Hoping for some kind of treat.
The children beg to their parents,
Hoping to receive a toy.
The cars beg for movement,
Hoping traffic will let up soon.

Skyscrapers tower over my head,
Competing with the other buildings to see who is grander.
People race past me to catch a taxi,
Competing with the other people to get there first.

And here I am.
In the middle of all this madness.
Taking in the music of the streets,
And the beauty of the craziness.
I find myself taken aback,
By how much beauty there is in this city.
This city I’ve lived in my whole life.
Crazy, quixotic, eccentric it may be,
But these same streets, colors, sounds, and buildings I see
Come together to make this city.
This city I call my home.



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This article has 3 comments.


on Apr. 18 2009 at 7:45 am
beddastella2@aim.com GOLD, N. Massaspequa, New York
10 articles 0 photos 14 comments
nice!! Thats exactly what a city is!!! I could relate!!

on Mar. 4 2009 at 3:34 am
blingblang4eva ELITE, Fayetteville, Georgia
160 articles 0 photos 105 comments
love thsi. rly good. i liek the way it all ties in.

Lonelymaiden said...
on Aug. 19 2008 at 7:40 pm
I think this poem is great.

I love the description in it. You are a good writer, so keep on writing.

:) Good Luck


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