The Quiet Nightlife Streets of the Blue Place I Imagine

May 28, 2009
By Anonymous

I walk down the streets ...
It's dark and quiet.
I am not alone, well on the streets I am,
But there are people all around me.
But it's quiet
I walk in the building, gray craft.
I take the elevator to the 10th floor.
The bar.
It's empty.
The sun is setting and I take a seat in the purple booths,
and just watch the sun, just see it set.
You've got to say goobye, goodnight -- the window is an opening to magic.
I am quiet as the quiet blue room in the quiet blue place I imagine turns gold for a single instance.
I sit, face blank, in the purple booth, in the bar, on the 10th floor of my blue building, breathless ...
COLOR

And I walk out


The author's comments:
This poem really has no reference to real life, it's just a place I imagine where everyone is quiet and blue. Exciting, right?
It definitely has a melancholy feel to it, so don't be happy while reading it. Imagine a place like New York; that's where this poem takes place. Now imagine a cloudy, sad day. That's what it's like there everyday. And everyone is silent. There are no cars, no noise, it's just a quiet, blue city.

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