Rush Hour Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

So why say hi to passers by
who swiftly fly? Why should one try?
Well meant one might to be polite,
dumb meanness spite to justify
life’s majesty to brash, to shy,
who, blind rush by. Few footsteps light,
few faces bright, too tense, uptight,
they pass from sight. They’d rather die
without reply than tell one why
they pass life by. In patent plight
from unknown fright their feckless flight
to left or right slows just to pry.
Some sigh, relationships deny,
some who should cry intensify
defenses high should one draw nigh
to pacify. They terrify
though lonely. Lie, respect defy.
Beneath blue sky of world awry
most truth belie, then sink, still lie.
Spry stanzas wry demystify
dimensions trite that terrify,
upon life’s blight, herein recite
in black and white absurdity!