Under the neon city lights I stand,
Among the mass of people who never notice me.
Over the bleak cold asphalt I stand fragile,
As my malachite eyes search for somebody.
Voices, laughter, blaring car horns around me,
But where is my long-lost secret melody?
Floodlights only dim my sense of perception,
As I try to forget that feeling of alienation.
My trainers have smudged my supple footsteps,
Worn-out jeans bequeath no scars;
Every day is like a fallen, withered leaf,
And my facade a blind person's fantasy.
But once I was lost in this city's dream-like quality,
The concrete streets have concealed my infelicity,
The heavy air silently sings of my every grudge,
And the lamp-posts have now crafted my shadow into a blue mirage.
Under the breath-taking city lights do we live,
As daydreamers breathing in the smoky night.
Under the city lights have I hidden my dream,
As my eyes search for the old me who has its key.
Maisha Nazifa Kamal is a meme-loving witch who is on an alpha-mission to defeat all Muggles in procrastination. Join forces with her at email@example.com