busy town – poem by David Harris.

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