Walking on the streets, in this city by day
With millions of people, being molded in clay
How real can it be?When the faces you see
Are giving you a phony smile...
Deception is my mood, walking in my neighborhood
For it's our modern style.
Sometimes you get acknowledged
Most times you're a piece of foilage
Falling of a deadwood tree...
Getting kicked to the curb, like a dried out herb
Rejection everywhere, is what you see.
I am disillusioned, by the false pretence
Of lies and corruption, that have no sense
Living in a melting pot, with little to say
Wishing upon a star, so I can fly away
Before I too am molded, by this city of clay.
C. Vergara
12.04.2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem