Steam rises from streets on 5th Avenue,

I’m walking over stoplight reflections, 

trapped by introspection. 

Tonight’s bound to last forever, 

clock slows down, 

sun drops below ground. 

When I’m lucky, 

I soar,

 yet I always get pulled back to this war. 

Timeless fight, 

I read how the soul climbs out of the potholes and stares ahead. 

Lungs fill with sweet acid rain while steel boxes slide back and forth. 

Paper boat heading down a gutter on the other side,

into the depths along with my pride. 

If there’s a cavalry, would they know where to find me? 

Tell them, if you can, 

I’ll be in the middle of Central Park,

 sailing paper boats.