We walk down the street
dragging our cases through
this impossible heat,
we stop at the traffic lights
and then you
say: “Although some might
call London grim
and dirty and smelly,
to me it’s a place I feel at home in,
that means so much to many.
So, we’re crushed on the tube
like sardines,
and yes most people are rude,
but that doesn’t mean
you won’t meet
someone worth fighting for
on those dank and dusty streets.”
I take a tour
of the ghostly buildings
glistening in the night,
see the silly little things
the good deeds that make the world alright.
“Yeah, you’ll get jostled
here and there
but I love the hustle and bustle
the atmosphere in the air
we breathe
that somehow stops me
from being able to leave
the city,
where we are free,
it would be such a pity
if we were not to be
trapped in our own personal paradise,
awaiting the fates toss
of the dice
that leaves us in utter chaos.
The darkness in our light.
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