City full of lost things
the gutter full of stars
nothing thrown away
imagination ploughed,
draws magnets on wild winds
beyond every headline
and mornings spin
trains take people
on journeys of discovery
some will never see.
All forms here
all divisions
stillness lingers
somewhere out of reach
old is the echoe
a prism with no ending
used people, some shut out
forever,between the dark places
and the streets paved with pain.
Lovers reach out
exhale,float on dreams
in a city built,on millions of breaths
the air seems to run faster
here in the heart of a city
running on filters of memory and survival.
the evening sleeps with its eyes open
gilded mirrors showing us the long distance home.
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