a poem to America
The sun arose this morning
Shining among the horizon high
The blue skies is met with a streak of colorful rays of light.
Beyond the sounds of nature bloom
The sounds of industrial hustles and bustles
Being heard like a symphony--
A symphony of nature's glorious sounds that brings about the day.
The sounds of the day begins---
Sounds of workers working,
The rhythm of engines roaring as the city comes alive
And the city's skyscrapers reaches up high to the blue skies
To the heavens high.
While below the busy ant people gathers
To start a working day
Be it poor, rich, middle class or gay
They are busy about their busy day like so
And so are those called Americans.
The sounds of the city is heard as sirens roar
As the city is awaken by the sounds of the day
Trouble stirring about
In the city that never sleeps.
And when the day is done
The busy people conclude their day
And now the night comes.....
It was a good day.
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 11:01 PM UTC
a poem to America
The sun arose this morning
Shining among the horizon high
The blue skies is met with a streak of colorful rays of light.
Beyond the sounds of nature bloom
The sounds of industrial hustles and bustles
Being heard like a symphony--
A symphony of nature's glorious sounds that brings about the day.
The sounds of the day begins---
Sounds of workers working,
The rhythm of engines roaring as the city comes alive
And the city's skyscrapers reaches up high to the blue skies
To the heavens high.
While below the busy ant people gathers
To start a working day
Be it poor, rich, middle class or gay
They are busy about their busy day like so
And so are those called Americans.
The sounds of the city is heard as sirens roar
As the city is awaken by the sounds of the day
Trouble stirring about
In the city that never sleeps.
And when the day is done
The busy people conclude their day
And now the night comes.....
It was a good day.
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