A beautiful site unless you take into consideration
That It's the glass wall once used
To divide the nation.
A ceiling to divide the earnings
And to catch the spending.
But instead of learning
About the wall we are sending
Our kids to bring home
A little bit of sand in their boots.
A little bit of metal in their flesh.
A little bit of blood on the vest
Of Wall Street is easily replaced by a new tie.
Now new ties between nations
Are sand mounds in the middle of Time Square.
Glass.
Broken and burned from the bakery,
The broker, the firehouse and the mother.
Into little bitty pieces we now hold.
Chalk from concrete buildings outlines the bare-scape,
Of this sand box with sand castles
Still trying to control the rest of the jungle-gym.
How ironic that our path
Matches the slippery-slope-slide
We are trying to make more our own.
How ironic that the sand castles we make match
The steel framework we try to destroy.
So own up to this mound of sand;
This glass broken so fine from an explosion
We slowly ran ourselves into;
The chalk on the sidewalk
Drawing out our past
By the building we destroy in the name of this glass ceiling
