Young Writers Society

skyscrapers carve smiles in the sky
and the earth clings to your feet, refusing to let you join them.

trigger warnings for:

new year city

pickpockets on all corners of times square,
fingers outstretched to hook into oblivious passerby.

fireworks boom in the sky over head,
smog blocking starshine from ever getting through.

railways carve through the underground,
like veins in a human arm, lifeblood welling up.

the ground is littered with champagne bottles
and the smoky remnants of explosions.

big city lights illuminate shadowy crevices
and too many people to count,
like ants spilling out of their homes,
to watch the spectacle above.

oxidized copper stands proud,
waving a torch of freedom
as blasts rock the ground below.