Thursday, May 03, 2007

The City

In the city,
On every street
There are thousands of heads
Every morning.

It’s a city that despises walkers
Their paths are blocked.
But each morning
Thousands of walkers
Tread the streets.

Each head in the city
Carries its cities

A morose man,
Walks with me on one such street.

That is not the only street I walk.
I change lanes and I cross streets.
And, I don’t mind who walks with me
As long as the cities in their heads
Do not spill on to the street.

(c) Jatin Gandhi, May 3, 2007


Anonymous said...

bekar hai
what do you think you are
you don't know what people are, what they are going through

is there use in saying things like this. be happy, love people, that is it.

my poetry journal said...

the last thing we need is an anonymous representative of people!