In towering canyons, I now roam,
A relic from a distant home.
Amidst the city's ceaseless throng,
I am the echo of a primal song.
Above the asphalt, skyward climb,
Where once were forests, lost in time.
My ancient heart, it beats anew,
In this maze of steel and avenue.
I feel the pulse of city streets,
Beneath my thundering, rhythmic beats.
A titan in this urban sprawl,
I am the shadow that enthralls.
With every step, I reclaim the land,
Where once my kind did proudly stand.
Though skyscrapers now pierce the sky,
I am a reminder of days gone by.
Through Central Park, I gently tread,
A monument to what was said.
In this modern age, I find my place,
A dinosaur in New York's embrace.
About the Creator
J.B. Rage
the elusive wordsmith, dances on the edge of reality& imagination. Born in shadowed alleys of forgotten libraries, His ink-stained fingers weave tales that defy gravity& logic. His typewriter hums secrets, As his quill whispers to the moon.
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
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