Quite quickly do the thoughts of kindness fade
When shoes are trampled on when stood in line
For morning’s transport. Thus starts a cynic’s day:
The din of traffic and the rush of time.
Small things do grate on narrow modern minds
As though it were of grandest magnitude:
The drama of our daily urban grinds,
Impatience for mindlessly eaten food.
Where’s calm in blinking lights and horns that shriek?
Where’s gentleness in the mad rush of crowds?
Too soon the heart o’erwhelms and becomes weak
And friendly hooded heads transform to shrouds.
When concrete jungles cage the morning heart
Let patient strength break shackles wide apart.
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