By *jO*         jo_711@hotmail.com
Date: 25 November 1998

bright lights, blinding love

Cars fly by on busy streets,
The horns wail as businessmen,
Rush hurriedly to the office
To do their office work.
Women wait impatiently
To get to the grocers
To get the food for the rushing husbands.
Lights change from green, to yellow,
To red.
In the hospital across the way,
Babies are born into families,
Wailing and crying for the hell
Which they have been thrown to
Shows no mercy.
Elders die,
And their legacy remains in the shape 
Of tears and mourning.
The doctor shows no emotion,
Only does his job
So he can be home soon.
His wife is at home,
Weeping over her love
Lost to the rest of the world.
And her daughter,
Her daughter
Is seated in a taxi,
In those crowded streets of honking horns,
Watching prostitutes sell their bodies
And drug dealers pick their victims,
Slowly broadening her horizons 
Faster than they should be growing.
But the funny thing is,
I still can't help thinking about you.