Little Man from Park Street Whenever we were in that city, Mom used to tell me, to hold her hand As I pass the street, because I might get lost, I couldn’t get the purpose of all these men passing with this much rush, where they up to?
I saw men in black suits heading to nine to five dead ends, Oh How lucky I was that I am still a child , What is lost inside all this mass? I guess people create big masses to run away from reality emptiness, large mass of cars, crowds of people , lot’s of money, too many sounds , what this passing robots try to hide?
Mom told me When I grow up I can come and live in here, But I believe what makes you lost in this big city ain’t these crowds and cars, It’s the whirlpool of slavery that get you lost, you will be lost inside your own dark and others hell, cars and crowds is just a rude invitation to such a hellish party,
As I held mom’s hand harder, I said: I guess Here I’ll be board.
Mom was already lost in crowds and cars sounds…
MRJournals
