A Critical Analysis of the New York Metro

The oblivious New Yorker thinks it is commonplace,

Walking down the black steps shared by a million people,

And temporarily existing in an atmosphere so fragile,

Where a fellow human could de-possess him silently,

A terrorist could send poison gas through his veins.

Where a cold or broken heart could use the third rail,

And no longer drive the rest of the body insane.

Where a beggar goes to meet mercy in shambles,

Because her benefactors know about fraudulence.

But all is not doom and gloom, for it is a place

Where a single smile could fuel his esteem, and

Well-meaning graffiti could speak a million words.

Where the acoustics make struggling music reverberate,

Echoing the eclectic essence of his soul.

Where neighbors come together to share fleeting moments,

Celebrating life without realizing it.

As he walks up the black stairs while a new street greets him,

The subway’s smell still lingers on his clothes, the smell of progress.

Excessive analysis and straightforward statements both agree,

The New York Metro gets you where you need to be.