New York

Fri, 02/23/2018 - 11:07 -- j.g.

New York; your streets have treated me quite well,

And even in the darkest nights or rain,

And even more in love with you I fell,

So now my heart will never be the same.

 

While through the streets of Brooklyn I do roam,

The humid day is coming to an end,

I’m glad to call this place I know my home,

I’m glad to call this place I know my friend.

 

But oh, New York, you don’t treat me quite fair,

You left me here with no real way to go,

I shouldn’t always have to be so scared,

Why do I continue to love you so?

 

Because you make me smile with all the lights,

Go figure, I’ll be staying here most nights.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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