ShyEyes
Newbie
The city bleeds in electric blues,
a quiet pulse beneath the street,
where empty lanes and shadow hues
replace the daytime’s endless heat.
The noise has packed its bags and gone,
the frantic rush is put to sleep,
and in the stillness before dawn,
the midnight hour is ours to keep.
No signals pushing where to turn,
no crowded rooms to fill with sound
just neon lights that softly burn
and turn the asphalt into ground.
So take the late-night quiet ride,
and let the glowing city breath;
some thoughts only reveal inside
the spaces underneath the weave.
a quiet pulse beneath the street,
where empty lanes and shadow hues
replace the daytime’s endless heat.
The noise has packed its bags and gone,
the frantic rush is put to sleep,
and in the stillness before dawn,
the midnight hour is ours to keep.
No signals pushing where to turn,
no crowded rooms to fill with sound
just neon lights that softly burn
and turn the asphalt into ground.
So take the late-night quiet ride,
and let the glowing city breath;
some thoughts only reveal inside
the spaces underneath the weave.
