Categories
POEMS

The sounds of electric guitars reverb off the walls of East London

Behind the glass it all seems so real
Framed within the plastic window pane
Static lights, amber amidst the indigo of the celestial
A romantic painting of suburban houses and moving trains
London is on fire, the flames are electric
Mercurial ubers reflect highlights of iPhone X's and Samsung S9's
The twinkles set the scene as the stage is lit
The clouds puff, curtaining the noise of wagamama shop signs
I see blue hills in the distance, stooting stars in the sky
They shoot towards heathrow, sponsored by airlines
I smell the air of the cold and industrial,
Civil servants carrying cheap vodka and £3 meal deals
I stroke the coarse, rugged surface of the bricks
She's so beautiful with her scars, cuts and nicks
I feel the story, uneven, unfurnished and crumbling
She yearns to be loved, to be something
My darling London looks so beautiful tonight
Dressed in black among the grey of yesterday
I stare out into the distance peppered with city lights
The lady of the night dances where the darkness lays