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.
