The city looks most romantic on rainy days
past the time where the sun bathes it with a
golden kiss (light)
a shiver of rain obscures my sight
the empty streets crescendoed by neon lights
barely any human in sight
i got the feeling of a clear thinking mind
as if the streets resemble my own thoughts
No signals insight racing down my synaptic lines
what must the city look like through a mice’s eyes
thrilling yet clocked with dangerous spice
a man walks by the bush where it scouts the valley
of caps driving by
next to street of a big boulevard in the hectic
tangle of 9 to 5 life
frightened by the manifold creatures passing by
it observes
and is stiffened by the ruckus of modern (grime)
just as the mice the sense of i feels alike
when thoughts racing high through electric pipes
in my mind.
Except by night, then i don’t have to hide
i go outside and feel clearance inside.