New York City-Part Two

It is a crime Like imaginary figures Lying on the street Covered with newspapers On a windy day With dirty faces... That they do not carry pictures To prove they need To be recognized For having a past And remembered To make a future possible... This is the first hurdle To go somewhere And the second To arrive And then what happens Is left to opened... And then to be read Depending on How important one is, Either left aside Or answered... Tossed in the air Torn, perhaps Ignored, maybe Only misplaced Into the trash That gets left on the street... Which didn't meet Any criterion at all, Lacking direction Made the outdoor file But haven't you ever Wished you never Threw that out? COPY WRITE©2009