Sometimes I look towards the sky,
forgetting that it is blocked by towers of steel and glass.
I step out onto a vast plain of concrete,
imagining a field snow and ice.
I still yearn for the trees and streams of my childhood.
I dream of snow-filled winter nights,
of family gathered around a piano,
singing of times long lost.
But instead I am given slush-covered streets;
screeching tires and harsh angry voices filling the air.
I dream of blazing fires in the fireplace and cold stars above.
But all I have are trashcan embers and smog-filled air.
The sky above is gray with forgetfullness,
instead of the blue of laughter and memory.
But I said goodbye to that child's life for this wonderful city.