Numerous giants stand straight and tall

While ignorant mortals to and fro run

The sun will soon hide its glorious light

From a city that is much too busy

Yet superficial stars will still glow

Brightly on a sleepless people.


The avenues are full of people

Some of are short and others tall

All night, the flashing marquees glow

Against their faces, as taxis run.

Every restaurant and store keeps busy

Darkness is hard to find amid the urban light.


Miles away, scarce is the light.

In the countryside, few are the people.

Assigned is a new meaning to “busy”

Field upon field of cornstalks stand tall

A flurry of dreams are all that has run

And the moon is all that will glow.


Before the sun will a single lamp glow

A farmer will dress in its weak light

With a shutter, his tractor will run

The hills are spotted with people

No longer does the corn stand tall

This is a different kind of “busy.”


Back in the city, no one is busy

Flashy signs have cut their glow.

Without the hustle, the giants once tall

Appear small, as windows reflect the morning light.

The coffee shops quickly fill with people

As swift winds down the streets run.


In both places will time always run

Hands will stay busy,

People will make people.

In both places will the sun, moon glow

Amid false light, amid true light

Here and there, society stands tall.


Smoother our lives will run

Though we may stay busy

We add to civilization as a people.


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