The CityA Poem by revolution9After the frenzy of the city has died down The city is at it's loudest Not in noise But in substance It's the way fog hovers over the city As if it awaiting a forgetten time Even though the city is quiet it has not lost it's fire It refuses to The streets are paved with good citizens with freaks and w****s with wanderers and followers with people looking for their next feel good f**k The city feeds these vices It will never stop That is it's purpose It is meant to be a festering place for everything that makes us human It is a festering place for everything that makes us real © 2008 revolution9Author's Note
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Added on November 4, 2008Author
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