Hour 19- Blinding Lights

The peace that comes from the quiet nature,

Only beaten by the rush of cities,

The assurance that comes with the next day,

Being just as busy without a doubt.

The blinding streetlights make you feel so small,

Like you don’t matter as much as you think,

Can try to be whoever you want to,

Have the space to fall and get yourself up.

So many people call your home their home,

A feeling of being different but not,

A single thread connecting you to them,

Nothing more magical than a city…

Note: This is a blank verse, with each line following the iambic parameter.

One thought on “Hour 19- Blinding Lights

  1. A most beautifully atmospheric (and perceptive) description of the freedoms and connections that we can find in a city – and it’s magical indeed! I love the light tone of this poem – the images are delicate. Nothing is forced. A beautiful read!

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