I happened on a notebook I used to write in when I first left home to travel, twenty years ago. This poem echoed my longing for my home. Today it reminded me of a great friendship that I lost only a few months ago; back in London.
Rushed and irritated the people are.
Cold and wet and confused,
disorientated and scared am I.
No blue sky, no fresh air,
No expressions, no feelings
Grey, polluted and superficial.
I see Homo Sapiens but no humans.
I stop and stare.
No ,these must be robots;
artificial applications of life.
All walk the same,
dress the same,
no communication, no warmth
London does not live,
it only moves.
It’s anthem a systematic monotonous tone.
Each day, each night.