When you're soaking in tubs, smoking in pubs,
sipping on sugary cups playing with pups
Do you see the skill of the potter, glassblower,
do you taste your tea, or just sit and pity?
When you're riding the roads, crushing the toads,
amidst the neon boards hauling the loads,
Do you see the graffiti on sidewalls, waterfalls,
do you hear a banjo strum, or a bass drum?
Have you seen a fine wine vanish like turpentine,
drunk by the lush swine like they have a deadline?
Not all who share the privilege, taste anise or sage,
there may be a spillage, or an abrupt slippage.
Have you seen a plain lane, black asphalt mundane,
painted for a penny gain, into an art insane?
There is a beauty can seek, be it in a crooked beak,
or the mount Fuji's peak, am I a geeky freak?
To see such beauty is an art,
a technique learnt by the heart,
The learnt ones are fortunate,
for its not a course by the state.
Maybe it's my biased schemata
That you find them in every strata.