Amid The Awful Multitude Poem by Sacha Hayes O'Grady

Amid the awful multitude,
Must I endure every day,
A city without solitude,
Like organisms on our way.

Such cold consumers I do feel
Are nothing more than shadows dim,
To turn the economic wheel,
And with it architecture grim,

Enough to make my blood turn cold,
No life have they, but fill the air,
Which our designers say are bold,
Instead are shrines to my despair.

Give me a place where I can be,
Away from all their glass and steel,
Somewhere beside a living sea,
So that each moment I can feel,

Yet more alive than I am now,
Along the dull and cold concrete,
Some celebrate, I know not how,
I must have earth beneath my feet.