When Beggars Keep Begging For Smog

As things get old,
We recognize them then...
As old.
With sentimental...
Memories.
To remember...
The whens, the whys and those hows.

As things get old,
We recognize them then...
As old.
With sentimental...
Memories.
To remember...
The whens, the whys and those hows.

Less freshness comes back,
When it's known what's inside the box...
With interest in it fading.

Less freshness seems more than needed and not,
When beggars keep begging for smog.
But not one request,
For fresh air to breathe.
Less freshness seems more than needed and not,
When beggars keep begging for smog.
But not one request,
For fresh air to breathe.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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