I had a dream
Of walking the streets of NYC
Like many times before
I’ve dreamt this
Same dream
But it’s a different NYC
It is my own.
The streets
Are fragments of
My memories
My hopes
And dreams
The streets are a puzzle-map
Of people I once knew
And know
Will know one day
Fruit stands
Attended to
By familiar faces
Road signs
I’ve seen before
Hotel rooms
I dream of
The dragging feeling
Of memories left in
Cigarette pans
That feeling of
Not having enough
Walking through the streets
With an empty wallet
And a man
I only half-know
From long ago
Was I always destined
To be a little destitute?
A little not-enough
A little forgotten
A little needy
If there’s a God up there
He’s certainly
Forgotten me a little
Or halfway
Maybe He’s just
Lost interest
In a thing like me

Copyright © 2013 C. JoyBell C. All rights reserved.


  1. I love this poem, JoyBell. From one writer to another, keep the pen moving.

  2. God doesn't do things for you when he believes you can do them yourself...


  3. This really speaks to me, my thoughts, my heart, my memories of NYC -thank you <3


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