The Way the World Once Was


When I hear music, I head record players and old cassettes.

I hear Meet The Beatles! humming softly in the background.

When I see people out on the town at night, I see flashing neon signs over bars and diners.

I see boys holding doors open for girls in flouncy swing skirts and bowling shoes.

When I smell the air, I inhale the sickening grease from street carts.

I smell the sweet scent of perfume and popcorn butter.

When I run my hand over the shiny Ford Model Ts, I feel slick wax beneath my fingers.

I can imagine the old grumbling motor under the hood.

When I read newspapers, I look at happy events.

I read stories of grand openings and winners of local contests.

When I turn on the TV, I watch the Ed Sullivan show.

I want to be a star appearing next to Mr. Sullivan himself.


Today, though,

It's completely different.


When I hear music, I hear radio static.

I hear the low drum of the bass of explicit rap music.

When I see people out on the town at night, I see gang violence.

I see groups gathering in back alleys pounding on innocent pedestrians.

When I smell the air, I inhale what others are smoking.

I smell lung cancer and short lives.

When I run my hand over cars parked along the street, I feel dents made from hit-and-runs.

I can imagine where the car has traveled to.

When I read newspapers, all I see is war and protests and economy issues.

I read stories of weapon threats and mass killings.

When I turn on the TV, I watch commercials promoting anorexic bodies.


I want to turn back time and live without war




I want to live in an era of record music




Late-night adventures.

Why can't the world listen, smell, and see the good that was once here

Give us hope

That somewhere out there

That world still exists.

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