I wake up to the busy city skyline,
The loud honking of cars,
The reflections of the tall glass skyscrapers,
The flood of movement along the sidewalks.

I walk out the door to a crowded mob of life,
A large mass of emotion,
A throng of roaming,
A body of distractions.

I walk home with sight of the lighten neon signs,
The feeling of the breezy, cold air,
The moon and the stars bright from afar,
The tingling of my cold fingertips.

This is what I call home.
A place bursting with life,
A city of endless opportunities.
This is New York City.