The Dirty City



I've seen the dirty city's heart

Through battered train windows revealed

by the peachy gaze of a streetlamp army

are countless streets and neighborhoods

each made up of infinite detail

each enduring infinite history

each bathed in anonymity

and the silence of a million sounds.


I've made the dirty city home.

Slept through its unrelenting nights

drawn into darkness above brightly lit streets

unknown to those who pass below

all made quiet, enveloped in the night

all wrapped tight in wailing cacophony

all combating the solitude

that haunts the souls of those who live here


I've heard the dirty city cry

its sidewalks covered in smoky ash

as twin steel torches came crashing down to Earth

and breathless statues choked on tears

none able to put back what once stood tall

none recognizing the empty skyline

none realizing the deep grief

delivered there by hateful aircraft


I've seen the dirty city's heart

its grandeur and its shame made plain

I've felt its skin of brick rise up to meet me

surrendered to its rough embrace

and made the dirty city's heart my own



This is really good. I like it. I especially like how you put the part about the dirty city's heart at the end again. It was a nice touch. Well done!


This poem is absolutely beautiful, you captured NY perfectly. And in a way that feels different than any gorgeous sorrow maybe. Its hard to put words to what you

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