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Among the wreckage and the filth
and the tainted notion of the ideal
I take a moment
I watch the stars and the darkness
clean of the haze of our craved light
and I simply stare and remember
of a time when nights were our days
and laughter was the common tongue
Where a city with endless possibilities
and a penchant for the arbitrary
was the place we called home
A place that took the lost and the hopeful
those that were stuck, or on pause
and became the catalyst for their change
their reason for pushing play.
And although I long for nostalgia
and the time now passed
I am stuck in this place
where a career is but a dream
and the media is our God.
Where power is given to those undue
and Orwell's words ring clear in our minds
making this place our Room 101.
I look around at the dirt and the mediocrity
and the unrelenting tide of money
waxing and waning
with no real purpose or outcome
and I wish for that better time
that euphoric time
where beauty was appreciated
and love was more than just a word
and although I am enamored
despite the dull and perpetuity
I still find myself
among the wreckage and the filth
taking a moment
A moment to watch the sky melt
and the rain fall
as the sun bursts down on the autumn trees
splashing the copper leaves golden
so that they drip with beauty and I realise
We are on pause.