Learn more about other poetry terms
Love You open up then it's mutual now it's mutual love. Love What is it exactly? How does it work? What's the point of it? One day you're in love, then the next day you're full of hate?
You always dreamt of being free, Living the way you wanted and acting however you feel. Everything seemed to be going well, but there was something missing there.
I moved to New York with a head full of dreams Left behind what I knew and was scared to face my fears I told myself "isn't this what you wanted? Why are you afraid?" I finally understood the changes that had to be made.
I am very excited to tell you about my favorite space – The Vessel, a tourist attraction in New York City.
I thought that i could fly - like the birds so high in the sky. But i never learned how to take flight, letting all the opportunities pass me by.
The trees in New York are so much wavier.There are different layers of opposites.Cattails in front of my nose, that house on the hill is staring into my eyes.I’m beginning to trust my gut more lately and I’ve been lucky not to blend into a peach f
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.
New York, You're a strange place. Filled with some that fit in and some that don't With some that fit in because they don't Some who make it, and some that won't
somewhere i can hear her singing still.‘new york i love you but you’re bringing me down’new york is always bringing someone down.someone taking the train to the end of the line
My drunken lover, You came to me so many years ago With a suitcase and a smile I felt your hands against my weathered towers Every day as you ambled to the bus stop I felt the fabric of your jeans
The rain was pelting pelting pelting everything as a young person ripped through New York streets like his feet were actually parts of a jet engine.
There I stood, at the corner of 5th and Broadway, sifting through friends and foe. The friends?
New York is the city of screaming nights, The city of dreams and blinding lights, Of taxicabs and honking horns, Where some dreams die, and some are born. New York is colorful and alive.
Black In America. i felt it for the first time. how Ironic. I was always Black In America.
My sister and I may be opposites And fight almost all the time, But when she packed and left for college I couldn’t help but cry.
stained glass windows the feelings i have for this city are those that i struggle to put into words calm rainy mornings and the way the rain sticks to the car window
A cell phone, The big flat-screen TV. The materialistic things in life That have become so commonplace, The easy answer for, "what can't you live without?" Well, I say something else.
I fall in love with people for fifteen seconds at a time. A glimpse on the subway, A smile on the street, A brief connection in a café. There is a never ending supply Of beautiful souls in every moment.
Somewhere beyond the rainbow Beyond where streets are paved in gold Beyond where freedom’s gospel is quoted in stone
Looking at the ground,
The New York Lights are sounds of sirens in the streets of paper towels
Wanderlust is a str
The perfect skyline Promises all the mystery and beauty
In the city, coffee-toting zombies of the morning pass along the avenue, a rich soup of smog and haze. Skyscrapers stretch to block the sun, weeds growing in the cracks of neglected sidewalks. The
Lois Pine In This City We've been through a lot in this city When the towers fell from the sky on that dreadful day Our city did what we must to help our wounded
Where lady liberty stands tall and proud, like a protective mother watching over her children she keeps a watchful eye on the city and the nation that she holds so close to her heart.
They say home is where the heart is My heart has always been with me Until that day Until that moment
No time to think about what to do, everyone is screaming
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
A day. 24 hours. 1,440 minutes. 84,600 seconds. So many things can change. shift. evolve. dissolve. resolve. Revolve around useless emotions and empty words. Who you were at 8am is not who you are at 8pm.
Shinning brighter than the stars,I watch the lights blink on, one by one.Sitting on the cold grass, under a blanket of dark,The view across the water humbles me. I watch the lights blink on, one by one.Some colorful, some just plain white.The view
Minutes pass as the sun drops into the Hudson River The George Washington Bridge looms above all of this New York lights up in its glory and spectacle From the bridge it is a sight that is not to be missed A tired, weary traveler still on his way
Metal giants towering,the music of history overpowering.The wonderland that goes by many names,its hidden treasure… a chance at fame.LIGHTS! The lights of the big stage are blinding,
"111 Jane Street"
To find a new meaning: The finish line I have been running to for 18 years is really the starting gunshot.
I'm from the largest apple the world's ever seen. from arroz con pollo and rice and beans. From dirty subways in the empire state in a 92nd street apartment it was all so great
If I stood, toes pointed forward, at the walls of ebony stone and watch the endless gallons dive, deep pits of New York; imagine the steel crashing thunder, smoking tower higher,
Never ending Everlasting Wondrous Yellow Outrageous Rainy Kindling That is where I wish to be New York, New York.
Joke. Jokes are good. Good jokes, dry jokes Like the grass of the boreal Funny jokes Like the kids of the night. Only say good jokes. Only get respect for your jokes
*So i was walking to the bus stop and passed by a homeless man. Nothing new so I walked straight past him didn't even see him at first. They tend to blend in with the concrete here and its a shame.