PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

The City Skyline


The City Skyline

 

This is me, I walk downtown with a smile on my face

and a fire in my heart.

This.. This is me, isn’t it? I have my tastes: the sweet

and the spicy; the hot and the cold; the lustful and the lonely.

Isn’t this me… or is it the smokestacks shrouding the sun,

and the forest fire, melting the skies.

Is that me? The hollow eyes that shine bright with hypocrisy

and the sunken cheeks of a man beaten by the world.

Is it me, staring back from the mirror, an empty skeleton,

and the brain and the heart, tearing at the psyche.

This.. This is me, beaten and broken by a love too great;

by a world too cruel; by a mind too soft;

By a heart too weak.

This is me.

 

Skyscrapers and Industrial Efficiency and Classic Cars

and Fossil Fuels and First-Class Flights and Conference Calls

and Fireworks and Corner Offices and… this Flesh..

This mask I wear hides it all beneath the reflection of vanity.

The man is lost beneath the persona;

The man has forgotten his world;

lost the colours of nature, or pure beauty.

The eyes that once burned for my touch burn no more,

ever extinguished, never forgotten.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (1)

spatel96
<p>for the #nofilter Scholarship Slam.</p>

Log in to leave a comment.