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Our city streets grow weeds,
we crunch them beneath our feet.
We walk for miles,
in the sun, snow, and rain,
the ignorance of youth flooding our veins.

We trace our steps throughout the city,
like webs of pretty memories.
I am just a body dweller,
just the sound of a silent scream,
just an echo of a symphony of voices,
this city has had enough of me.

And when you smile,
all of the lines on your face show.
Your palms are wrinkled with the promise of forever,
I can still see fragments of our past,
even as I try to remember the last time we touched.

Love is rushed by lovers,
and our hands clutch to straws we might never grab.
I break myself into tiny pieces, just to make you whole again,
and still fool myself into thinking that you might consider me your home.

Our city fields grow fires, we stare at them with desire.
We walk for miles- in the wind, dark and pain,
the stress of old age flooding through our veins.
We trace our steps throughout the city,
but we don’t recall anything.
I am just a seller of lies, just an echo of emptiness,
this city won’t remember me.

Every day I think of you, it’s hard to let you go.
I wonder if you’re freezing yet, beneath the winter snow.
I wonder if you think of me, you never leave my mind.
I wish you were here with me, right by my side.
I wonder if you know, that I’ve never let you go.

I wish I could release you, set myself free,
maybe settle down in another’s custody.
I see you everywhere,
I hear your voice when the leaves rustle.

Our city streets grow skyscrapers,
construction companies erase us.
We walk for miles,
North, East, South, and West!

GREG RAKOZY MIN AN

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