They call this city,
Dirty
The shitty,
Too busy,
Crowded …
Shrouded
in media spin.
Tourists expect rude,
Crude …
City of sin!
We are not
without guilt;
No doubt …
We were built,
of cement!
We never sleep,
ours dreams …
we will keep.
A tree grew here,
more then …
just a few!
A touch of green,
is always seen.
On rooftops …
Lo, the beloved park;
Offering acres of green!
We will lead the way,
if you say,
you’d like to stay.
New York City
take no pity!
See the green …
the trees …
the grass …
the kind we do not
smoke;
Unless you ask!