My Tale, of Two Cities

I have lived
Called a city.

I now live
In a real one.

And for the first time
Since I have lived,

I wish the real one
Would go away.

It is cold
In temperature
And expression,

Always asking
How I am
But never really caring.

My life is now
In this city,

But my life
In the city before
Still lingers
In front of my eyes,

And so I live
With a chronic case
Of nostalgia

Carried by waves
Of why
Did I come here?

And wanting
For dreams

I lie down
And think
I should accept my lot.


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