Urban Trap
#acorn I'm stuck in this town, Walking around and around, Searching feverishly for green leaves, Or just a fresh breeze, ...Please.
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#acorn I'm stuck in this town, Walking around and around, Searching feverishly for green leaves, Or just a fresh breeze, ...Please.
I saw pidgeon today in a tux of black and white feathers. A cute little waterproof jacket to handle all kinds of weathers. Walking along the paved pathway bobbing his little head.
Daisy at the door Of the high rise flats: Surviving, it seems, On air and concrete. Tender beauty Made of impossible tenacity Surviving in the fag-ends, Glass and johnnies.
The city is great The lights are okay, The noise is supurb. That is, in the day. But in the dead of night, This place never sleeps I want to slip away, And so, away I creep.
By day I run to the countrysides arms. hustled and bustled by my rushed city life. it's comforting freshness heals and calms. The leafy trees shield me the luscious.
When we arrived in the sparkling city of New York, all I did was take a deep breath and mutter "Wow, Susie. What have you got yourself in for?" Skyscrapers stood tall and the windows gleamed. I...
So I went to London last weekend and it was great. I got to see and do lots of things. One thing I aways seem to forget about the city, is how busy it always is.
Welcome to perdition. The city within the city. Inside of the capital. Where dreams are encouraged and success is fallible.
I'm stuck in this town, Walking around and around, Searching feverishly for green leaves, Or just a fresh breeze, ...Please.
Having cleared away the rain London's sunny once again Let's have strawberries, lemonade Till the daylight starts to fade Then move on to evening's laughter Southeast city tropicana Having cleared...
Kiss the wife and baby, Grab a flask of tea, Make sure you're out the door by 7:03 At the station you stand by the vending machine.
There are more people in this city than yesterday or the day before for that matter Summer's finally here for a final five minutes of silence sweating like a confused android dusty and romantic as...
Copyright Ⓒ 2012 Christopher Patrick Kirk all rights reserved Descend to the depths if you will, down aged escalators and along cold tiled corridors.
A crowded stop, it's raining hard, A noisy bus, an oyster card. A busy train, a standing start, A broken signal breaks your heart. A place for bags taken up by bikes, A rude conductor nobody likes.
I'm not quite sure how to describe it, so I'll just call it a habit. I can't remember how it started but I also don't seem to be able to stop it.
Sitting on a park bench Looking for pigeons to feed, Ignoring the crumpled newspaper That I brought to read.