by Conor Keane
Dawn rises on the gloomy city
Cloaked in shadow, not so pretty
as it may think itself.
A area of bustling crowd
Always nosy, much too loud.
Sometimes I want to put it on the shelf.
Of my mind and of my soul
A land that can eat you whole
Or chip at you with what goes on.
The horror of all that is wrong.
It is a place that's quite unfair
But such is a cross to bear
When you live and when you walk
On sidewalks caked in dirt and grime
and the tears of a million crimes
Some against nature, some against love.
A place where good flies away,
scared like a dove
searching for a place
to leave its branch
and good will.
I leave my room, out of the gloom, descend the stairs and out the door.
Wondering is it worth hoping more
When my foot nearly steps
On a rose.
I notice its unassuming beauty as it juts up from the crack
of the sidewalk of a million steps
My wonder did not lack
For how could something of such simple beauty
live in such a clime
How could something so fragile
Stand it all this time.
And so I advert my walk
Certain not to hurt it
For to kill such beauty would be sin
And I'm not one to do it.
And so I walk off on my way until I
reach the corner
and across the road I see her.
A girl of infinite grace, waiting for the light to change
I fight the urge to run and say hi
Firstly because I would be crushed
by a speeding truck
although the fear of being crushed lives there regardless.
Instead I stand, a statue of fear
Wondering should I venture near
But as always, I fall back
Another Concrete Rose
peeking from the crack.
Last updated May 26, 2011