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Sometimes at night You want nothing
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Down On Your Luck
by Janicelucky
82 lines, 1 comment,
on Sep 19 10:14 AM. In life, hope, nyc, city, blues, new york, big apple, heart, head, thoughts
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Turquoise and gold landed on my sleeve today
As I sat on the hard metal bench of the office building courtyard,
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Maybe someday we'll settle down - Buy a country house,
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by Kia Tenshi
24 lines, 2 comments,
on Sep 11 5:50 PM. In city, thoughts, deep, insight, metaphor, symbols, pain, dark, angst
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There were the lights From the shops
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Swaying in the breeze
The trees are speaking to me
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Poem about the life of New York
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I sip my beer in a drunken haze
flip calenders and count the days
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Even the clouds fail to hide your majesty:
Your spire bridges the stars.
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Even in the darkness
There are walls of colour
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a mix of poetry and prose...
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Streets of smooth concrete and
Flashing, singing Lights
by Jesusdancer
13 lines, 1 comment,
on Mar 31 8:50 PM. In longing, personal, travel, thoughts, wishes, desires, life, love, city
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Pregnant off of aggressions' best grace as ladies legs
tumble then roll
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and the moon rose after quite a wait
on behalf of citizens (hurried and silent and chilly)
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10,000 eyes searched the exhaust billowing streets
for something like an angel
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Smog above the river.
Smog above the ponds.
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I think I feel summer on my hands
As a sky folds warmly
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Unyielding pavement,
split by the mightiest blade,
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Walking around in the humid grass
The air hot and yet cool
by Beverlique
31 lines, 8 comments,
on Oct 13 11:45 PM 2007. In City, friends, summer, memories, Life, Fun, wandering, looking, key, run-down, hot, imagery
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Would they miss me / Can they even spot me / In these damned / Crowded city streets / Anyway / Whats one life to millions more / Did you leave your number / Your sure as hell / Left your foot prints on my floo
by OhSnap
43 lines, 1 comment,
on Jul 8 12:23 AM 2007. In angst, suicide, sad, society, city, weird, pain, other, lyrics
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This city, it pretends to be vibrant with life, / yet it has no soul. / Here, there are only a few white souls left / to maintain the lonely outposts along the curved paths of the weir / and to guide seekers t
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The nominal white up sundown / bright light fright of / Night bringing your senses home to / your head / Lonely head / As the litter strewn streets nag the broken / t.v, / For a quick blow job in the bush.
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