Welcome to my city

where the breadth of its beauty

might be dictated by the depth of your pocket

The sights and sounds

of tourists all year round

mask the death and decay

that fill some with dismay

If you live in a skyscraper,

what business is it of yours

If there’s a stabbing or two below?

‘It’s a jungle down there!’ we cry

but you’ll sip your wine from on high

Welcome to my city

for her- you need not show pity

She’s old but she’s strong

and she’ll keep going on

-taking with her, her fading  beauty

©Vivian Zems

Poets United Midweek Motif-City

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