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Hidden Haven
I lost my voice
And found it again
Flitting past my eyes in between drops of rain
Wedged in between the graffiti on the walls
Hiding shyly in the whispers of cynical teenagers
Laughing from headphones and speakers.
I lost my passion
And I found it again
Buried deep within your streets and your stories
Frolicking within gently shaded parks
Wondering
I lost my heart
And I found it again
In gentle hands, beckoning me to the blackbox
Gentle hands, shoving me onto the stage
Gentle hands, thrusting a microphone before me
Gentle hands, roaring with applause as I stepped down
I found myself in the bright bursts of color
Mohawks and tattoos, murals and sculptures
Black, white, brown, yellow, the white of inclusive smiles
The orange of basketballs, the green of willow trees
A city of obscure light gleaming proudly
Through the murk of an empire of ostentatious shadows
You
Cleverly camouflaged as a collage
Of coffee houses and college kids
Shyly sleeping
In the beautiful buzzing hive
Of restless workers and drones
With dollar bills clinging to their legs
Making poisoned honey
Out of false pollen
You
My first stage, my second home , my seventh heaven
The city of roses, the city of angels, the safe haven
For artists and poets, life-livers and life lovers
For dragon slayers and noble deed-doers, lost boys and little lost dogs.
You, there when I needed you, there when I wanted you
You, hidden by tall flashy skyscrapers, gouged by fast flashy cars
You, the beautiful, unassuming artistic girl next door who forced me to fall in love with you
You, beautified by the strange
You, who I call home.
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Okay, so, the spacing on this poem is a little off – like, I abuse line breaks and indents in my recent poetry, so the transition from word doc to online piece was not particularly nice to it. Sorry if the meaning comes out differently than I meant it to – ask any questions, give any feedback in the comments below!