I long for the city's glow
That rivals a Christmas tree at midnight's fall.
With its lively hum, a symphony
That fills my heart anew.
Unfair it seems,
Born amidst rural scenes.
Urban rhythms call louder
Than redneck gas stations and farmhouse decor.
I long for the city's pulse,
It's ever-changing face,
Where small town echoes fade,
And new lives interlace.
In the city's embrace,
Faces blend in diversity's dance,
No longer the same old same old,
But a vibrant, endless chance.
YOU ARE READING
Diary of a Poet
PoetryPoems about random things I find fascinating. And a more articulated way of getting things off my chest.
