An hour to rush
How does one man find quiet among so many?
Screeching metal casts me, into a whirl of faces
I stumble through the crowd, wanting out of these busy places
Lead me away, from horns and chatter and glare
Everything is all-at-once too much, and calm is all too rare
Not for me the city bustle, the rapid-fire to and fro
Carry me home to a cup of tea, a book, and all things slow
Empty and in need of rest, revive me there by fire’s glow.
About the Creator
Joe O’Connor
New Zealander
English teacher
Short stories and poems📚
Please be honest- I would love your constructive feedback, as it's the only way I'll get better. Would rather it was pointed out so I can improve!
Currently writing James The Wonderer
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