PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'm shifting nervously from leg to leg

But your nervous habits make me twitch

A smirk 

You say I am an adorable hypocrite

Splashing through filthy water

When it hasn't rained

You drop a dollar 

into an old man's morning coffee

But that doesn't make a saint

You love the questionable virtues 

The city renders

I miss the days 

Where happy eyes met

And exchanged hello's

Not here

I might as well be walking glass

So as not to get in their view

They shuffle by

Buildings could be coming down around them

And it would be a small annoyance

They'd carry on

Trudging over wreckage

And ignoring pleas

They'd be saints