Message From The City

Romanticize my flaws
It seems to be a common recurrence with people
Under the congealing mercury of a crescent moon
Talk of the beauty of the back ally bums
Taking drags from cigarette and pipes
Find a melancholy beauty in the desperate need for addiction
Find my sewers and underground passages playgrounds
For your art and chicken scratches of graffiti
The soundtrack of your evening
Is the cacophonous scrape of shoes on gravel
And the honking of car horns in the distance
My veins run with spilled liquor and car tires
And the man sleeping on the bench has found a penny on the floor
Perhaps it is his lucky day
Perhaps he could care less because money is worthless and yet priceless

This is a message from the city
And I'm whispering this to you
As your little fingers drag across technological keys
I'm telling you this dear writer
Make my flaws bittersweet