Set
before their eyes beautiful things.
Let
them hear beautiful music.
When
gray concrete-ugly engulfs them
With
landlords and the unemployment rate,
When
last year’s emergencies
Are
still this year’s considerations,
When
the compass fails to bloom,
And
there’s no pavement, road, or sign,
They
will find home
In
the forty-first symphony,
In
the Mona Lisa’s smile.
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