In the Big Apple I stand and see
I must be invisible like a tree
The flow of humanity wandering by
They're all in a rush I wonder why
I pose like a boulder in a stream
As they all pass around like a dream
They rush to go uptown or down
Standing here I feel about to drown
Hustle and bustle to their own clock
To no one else do they take stock
They only know where they will be
Their own problems are all they see
The market soars, reaches new highs
Their earnings grow high as the skies
Broadway, Times Square and all the sights
All the concerns are the night lights
The flow of life without a thought
Travel the world as they are taught
Ignorant of life except their needs
They see not when the real world bleeds
This is true of big cities; everyone has a destination and a time limit. Don't get in their way or you'll get trampled. But travel to a small town and the scene changes drastically. Life is lived at a slower pace and people seem more caring. But once in a while it's exciting to get in the fast lane and keep up with the traffic. How much more you'll appreciate the slower pace of life when you return to it. Great poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great rhyming, and fascinating story. of course i KNOW there is at least ONE person in New York City who would notice you, , , , , , , , , , , at least if i were there when you were! ! ! ! ! NICE! [or did you mean Penn Yan, New York (my sister's 'summer home'!) ? ? bri :)