I left my heart in New York City
I thought myself a diver
and the city the diving board
to spring me into a world of wonder
but now I wonder, what in the world-
is going on in New York City?
In the City- a flower
bloomed within my hands
opened up- into a Woman!
Wilted though- when I left,
the garden is bare from tears we shed,
not so long ago.
There is a grumbling in the City
of beasts that fight over bits of meat
and when one falls, it is the next meal to fight over
I never fought for food,
but… I’m finding the fight in me…
Do not wilt my flower, I cry so when e’er you do.
Do not cry my flower, else I’ll wilt from salt tears too.
The Beast in me bets on bits by the by
and nibbles what other beasts don’t spy
it bites and scratch and scream all night
it goes for the throw, all the tails we know.
I’m hungry for the City Hunger, it burns like a challenge inside of me
measure up and dig in and go big or get out and go home
the beasts all sidle up, shoulder to shoulder
they never let anything through.
I walk through, under legs,
my flower- my heart,
is there- all alone