First we drove down a road,
only to discover a dump truck’s load.
Then I saw a building; the city’s start,
broken windows; falling apart.
To think of this place when it was born,
and now a mess; wrecked and torn.
Then under a bridge; right in a line,
and suddenly everything started to shine.
The buildings were new; the plants were neat,
as we rode along down the street.
All of the sights, shiny and fresh,
Men walked in suits and women in dress.
I thought of how we could climb,
through two kinds of city in such little time.
So how those companions seem to meet,
produces a feeling both sad and sweet.
I realize now when riding those roads,
and rolling past uncovered manholes,
that behind the big city we all know and use,
there’s a saddened place, broken, burned, and abused.
1996