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Description
one million lamps lit
within the confines of a concrete prison.
one million heartbeats,
all burning with the passions of an urban pulse.
breathing in the metropolitan cocktail of exhaust fumes.
listening to the three-part harmony of raised voices,
police sirens, and drivers in vehicles
compacted too close to one another.
twisted temperaments lead to twisted metal.

the rain that falls upon the concrete
washes away the blood spent on attempting to be something
somewhere where there are one million other dreamers.
oh cradle of liberty, holding history close against its bosom.
you exchanged organized rebellion for cacophony and chaos;
civil unrest forged now by rebels without a cause.
and yet we would have you no other way, beloved philadelphia.

your rivers, with water running through like
blood through veins and capillaries.
the silent bell that rings, conveying to teeming masses
what the content of their soul entails.
and it is soul. and it is vitality
that no foreigner could hope to understand.

raised tempers and flaring sentiments,
the only outlet for those not painting murals or
dreaming their metropolitan dreams
underneath the starry night sky.
we who love you, who walk amongst your towering buildings,
crying liberty in steel girders and cement and pavement.
in grit and grime and beautiful calamity.
we seek you in both morning and evening.
shut out the lights and allow the darkness to burn into the nocturne.

i meet you there. within the night.
somewhere close to the intersection of broad street and infinity.

Description
one million lamps lit
within the confines of a concrete prison.
one million heartbeats,
all burning with the passions of an urban pulse.
breathing in the metropolitan cocktail of exhaust fumes.
listening to the three-part harmony of raised voices,
police sirens, and drivers in vehicles
compacted too close to one another.
twisted temperaments lead to twisted metal.

the rain that falls upon the concrete
washes away the blood spent on attempting to be something
somewhere where there are one million other dreamers.
oh cradle of liberty, holding history close against its bosom.
you exchanged organized rebellion for cacophony and chaos;
civil unrest forged now by rebels without a cause.
and yet we would have you no other way, beloved philadelphia.

your rivers, with water running through like
blood through veins and capillaries.
the silent bell that rings, conveying to teeming masses
what the content of their soul entails.
and it is soul. and it is vitality
that no foreigner could hope to understand.

raised tempers and flaring sentiments,
the only outlet for those not painting murals or
dreaming their metropolitan dreams
underneath the starry night sky.
we who love you, who walk amongst your towering buildings,
crying liberty in steel girders and cement and pavement.
in grit and grime and beautiful calamity.
we seek you in both morning and evening.
shut out the lights and allow the darkness to burn into the nocturne.

i meet you there. within the night.
somewhere close to the intersection of broad street and infinity.