Old city skyline, structures true
Sculpture of Michaelangelo-
The beauty there makes pulses slow
Impressed with poets like Shakespeare
Who penned verses to draw sweet tear
Soldiers' who charged a bloody beach
Stepped over death, a goal to reach
But skylines now are way too tall
They leave man feeling much too small
Why when we still have room to spread
Must we grow up, up UP instead
And nevermind the truth hard found
That what goes up comes surer down
To dust and rubble, ashy gray
No place for children there to play
Now we've machines to exercise
Robots mow lawns, and is this wise
To plan our lives by a palm pilot
What strength in man we have forgot
So proud we sit, with all our ease
But our end is in technologies
For soon we'll need things to think
To feed our mouths and pour our drink
Kelly
