New York New York

Big Apple city streets and subways less safe.
Fruit has gone sour, partake of it at your own risk.
Lunatics push you into 82,000 pounds of screeching death,
Flattens and chews you up, a cadaver in a meat grinder.
Dreadful, horrible way to go out in bloody bits and pieces,
A signature way to die on the rails from a shove in Gotham City.
Happens more and more often, like a twisted steel fad.
Street psychopaths attack and put you to sleep in the
City that never sleeps. Random attacks the thing.
Older more likely to be the next statistic, but
Anybody’s on the impromptu knock out list.
The prep probably walks while you in the ICU.
Light sentence, if any. Coddled criminals rights
More important than your insignificant citizen safety.
Illegals attacking police free to leave despite
The unwritten rule you don’t attack the
Protectors in blue or the hammer of justice
Hammers you harder, an example set.
New York of old before worms in the Big Apple,
And the bright lights of the city nights went dim
O how I mourn for you.

Bob Boyd

BobBoyd

Author: BobBoyd

Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)

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