NYC

It’s a night like any other, taxis rushing to a halt,
traffic lights, chasing each other, honking horns in useless fights.
The wind is rough, makes me feel naked,
A good profession in this cold.

With the bustling of the weekend lying hours or minutes ahead
So many people having found a way to switch around routines
5 of busy, 2 of plenty, 2 of busy, 5 of dead
This time not me, I’m skipping over, 7 alone, enough is said

It’s a night like any other, yet the difference in my mind
Makes me feel that time is changing. Is there truth in what I see?
Would the choices made a week before be still the same today
If one could look into the future, what type of future would one find?

Struggling forward, leaping over, missing what lay deep below
Perhaps it’s not the time that’s changing, or the body of it all
For when morning light shapes clarity, the mist will disappear
It’s a day like any other, I will have another go.