New York Bodies

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New York Bodies

I once wished eighteen would come faster.
A blooming, shining age with driving license
and a fight for a world fairer.
A New York body
with brilliant mind and talent,
only to discover the city is different.


Trapped in a New York pedestrian, lost in the noises.
Red light, green light,
am I going the right places or am I just following others?
This heart and mind were unsheltered from twisted standards.
How do I know which one hides their mean, wicked faces?


But hope is a stubborn thing,
and empathy is our diamond ring.
For when those who call other's pain nothing,
we can show up different
and make it a 'something'. 


What is young blood if not
hotter than the cold and leaden?
To be the Sun that warms the chill and bad weather.
A New York body
who rises from the bitter
and becomes new eighteens' storyteller.


"Learn to let things go to be happier,
even when the world still remains in fractions."


Eighteen is a New York city.
A promise of glitters and gold until our cab reaches the station.
We try hard to afford a living because only so few can afford us pity.


I was a fool to assume quickly
that only if we reach an age, we would be better off living. 

- metaphorical_mortal

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