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I place I may go in a dream I often have. |
New Amsterdam by Keaton Foster New Amsterdam This is a tale So as it will go A place never home But an ideal sown There are men Ones in wooden shoes They hobble around Making sounds Announcing themselves They cannot hide They cannot avoid being seen New Amsterdam There are Ladies Ones wearing dresses In vary shades Of distinctive blue They move about In the tiniest of groups They speak kind words And whisper harsh lies They wish not to be judged But they are the biggest Judges of them all Perfection is not real But from where I sit This is as real as it gets Everyone knows what to do And how to get it done For each other and themselves The symbiotic method In which they coexist Puts aside all that should Otherwise keep them at odds Their examples are profound In a world increasingly unresolved New Amsterdam At the end of a street There are boats in rows Well-crafted vessels They have stood against time They have resisted the elements In those boats are nets I guess it could be said A means to an end Swimming in the nearby sea An endless bounty of broods Food for the masses An idealistic approach Of a wider cohabitation In such a place I have never once been In my mind Behind these eyes I have further lived Where I am is not the same People in this place don’t care Coexistence means least of all I am write where I want to be And these words Will hopefully get me there New Amsterdam… New Amsterdam Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2024 |