Friday Poetry: "In Ten Thousand Years You Won't Matter But Now You Do"

Hello lovelies! Here's a poem for you about New York—because, as you know, every love story I will ever write is dedicated to New York. I truly hope you enjoy it. Thank you so much for being here. xx

In Ten Thousand Years You Won't Matter But Now You Do

so here you are at last,

eyes wide, drinking in the sights and sounds of
a city so rusted that only innocent eyes could polish it and
make it new once more,
and you have seen these buildings
only through the eyes of so many countless others
perception distorted by the blurred lenses humans have
never learned to take off

and the city is old but you are new
so just for this one day you lose yourself in its magic, 

because here there are towering buildings that bump
against the lowermost edges of heaven
city lights that wink and sparkle even when
the darkest night descends, just to let you know
that you are never alone;

here there are museums filled with dreams on paper
colours you never imagined could exist
in daring, graceful strokes that swirl effortlessly
into all the answers to the questions
you never thought to ask;

here the sun is setting, sending dying rays of gold
snaking into the innermost secrets of the city, lighting
the darkest depths of New York on fire,  

and perhaps this place is nothing more than a worn-out cocoon,
perhaps to others the music of racing chasing taxicabs
have become nothing but a background soundtrack
perhaps they have memorised the faded scratches and discovered
all the mysteries tucked within the backroads and alleyways of the city,

but tonight you know none of this:
just that here, the hot dogs come with free ketchup
and the cracks in the sidewalk are still invisible

here you are wandering and new and
free free free free free and all you know is
winding sidewalks and flashing billboards
and the smell of coffee and hope.