City Rhythms in the Rain

Rain taps slow on my cold hood. City feels tired but it's feeling

good. Step by signs with the letters half dead. Bus hisses by

like it's losing its thread. Coffee's cold but my pulse stays warm.

Pacing through the morning like an eye in the storm. Brick work crack

with the posters torn. Whole block looks rough but it's where I'm born.

Taxi cuts close like it wants to fight. I shrug smirk once,

keep the rhythm tight. Sky leans heavy but I won't slow down.

Footsteps sing with the hum of town. Wide awake in a half lit