Sitting in a coffee shop,
enjoying the spring day.
Men and women rustling about,
taxis driving side by side.
Oh, there goes a man,
with his arms glued to his side.
And just a few steps behind him,
is a woman dressed for success.
Men and women walking,
as if they have a train to catch.
No lost looks on any faces,
besides a few that are sitting on corners.
Dirt is dancing beside,
all these quick moving feet.
This seems like one big race,
one where everyone refuses to be beat.
Although there is no trophy,
nothing to be won.
No one is a statue in this city,
there is always a place to be;
for in this city,
sleep is a very uncommon thing.
The day is flying by,
as I sip my cup of joe
for I’m the only person in this city,
who has no place to go.