No One Is Recited

NO ONE IS Lowry painted what he saw in Pendlebury,then.Grimy surroundings became philosophy of art to his brush and pen.Not as an artist,just someone who paints and cares,seeing not the streets but the folks living therein.People scurrying back and fro believing they can do what they wish, yet not free just on the go.,trapped by circumstance,love marriage and the like. Each day, we too,busy as worker ants,automatoms almost,and never free.No one is on earth,in reality. Listen to me read this poem on youtube under the name ichthyschiro