London is lacing through my heart,
as I lope through the narrow streets,
cobblestoned and guarded with black metal
The sun is the same, but it shines differently,
the brightness bringing out familiarity,
a spotlight on the old, making it somewhat new
"They do things the same there, except
they do it with accents."
Five hours away from the east coast, and
New York is already losing its novelty,
against the silvery-gold city of classic literature,
unassuming art and stolen artifacts, undeniable history
comforting yet foreign love
Finally, I find love, and it's a stable kind of love,
a kind of love you feel for a grander being, a city,
one that will change yet still remain the same for years
A love for independence and possibility,
for what is yet to come
Written: 5/301/10

No comments:
Post a Comment