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Big cities daze me. 

Walking past these concrete covered streets

Swarms of people, I the anointed keeper

This is where they come to be seen

But passing these neon-covered billboards, 

Shiny darling things, the scent of crisp paper bills

Sometimes I look out and see nothing but white noise

Honking cars blurring into air

It is in blank spaces that souls evaporate.

Times Square is a puzzle, the epitome of you

You in yourself a puzzle, the pieces which lay scattered

In the woman in a business suit busy checking her phone?

The little kid, flushed in awe, the vibrance of the young

I sometimes get so inside my head that I –

Like the singer on the curb filling the night sky with angels

Or what about that model, angled curves and cruel beauty?

Which life is it that is for me to live?

When I was younger I thought being

An actor or firefighter sufficient enough

From screens, behind beams you tell me

Follow your dreams

But dreams are never enough.

Never enough for you.

Subtract the passion, twist it into “naivite” 

Mock at the light in our eyes

Drown the love, gag it with reason, logic,

Cover our mouths with “shh that’s not proper”

But what if what’s proper isn’t right?

Blind the young with pretty things

To replace all that you have taken

And if you have your way, all that will be left is –

And in blank spaces, souls evaporate.

This is a poem about society’s contradicting ideals of the perfect person, from a teenager trying to figure it all out. 


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