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New York, New York by Yates, Bill
New York Accent by Strauss, Lei
Four-Three-Two Park in New York by Sankey-Lewis, Iris
New York Joes by Heemstra, Robert
NEW YORK CITY - my home town by rams, louis
New York City - Vicious Cycle by Simmons, Don
The Haunting In New York by Girl47, Country
Stars of the New York by Diniz Cruzeiro, Max
Tears of New York city by Sathasivam, Ravi

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The Best New York Poems

Details | New York Poem | |

Who's Who

Who's who in the New York Zoo? 
Said the clown with a funny face.
Many different cultures.
Within the human race.
Who's who in the New York Zoo? 
A lion, a bear, an elephant, a giraffe.
Many different animals.
All which make us laugh.
Who's who in the New York Zoo? 
A barber, a tailor, a dressmaker's store.
Many different occupations.
Make your way through the door.
A Catholic, A Christian, A Saint, and A Jew.
Many different religions.
While we feed Central Park's pigeons.
Who's who in the New York Zoo? 
Said the man with a great big shoe.
Find your subway to paridise! 

Zoo York Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2010,2014..All rights reserved

More great poems below...

Details | New York Poem | |

The High Line

Elevated railroad tracks
Abandoned long ago
Have been transformed into a place
Where grass and flowers grow.

With benches made of wood or stone
And artwork interspersed,
The desolation and despair
Have all but been reversed.

If visiting the city
Is a plan that you have made
Then walk upon the High Line
And behold what’s there displayed.	

It’s part and parcel of the town
But also quite unique
So stroll the High Line if
A New York feeling’s what you seek.

Details | New York Poem | |

To Sit And Watch The Snow Fall

I like to sit and watch the snowfall as I’ve done in my memory.
Falling upon the deck, falling where my toys used to be.
Where as a child I’d sit and watch the woods turn from brown to white.
I had so many dreams back then, as I do here tonight.

The smell of ginger bread cookies and cider filled the house.
Where there was good cheer for all including the visiting mouse.
The sweet taste of maple syrup from Teatown I recall.
As the snow fell on the ice where we used to slip, slide and fall.

Details | New York Poem | |

From Vermont Looking West

Passing Burlington through emerald green forests, the mountains just over the next horizon. Old cabins sit around a circular lakes trapped in time. The yellow sand warm as a happy childhood. The worn gravestones behind the church no longer hold a memory. Wild flowers are picked from the side of the road and put into a jar on the kitchen table. The only thing that has changed is the people.

Details | New York Poem | |

Tribute to Daniel

“In this life there’s been heartache and pain”
How could I begin to find love again
Desperado walking a tightrope
I looked down and Daniel gave me hope
“The first time ever I saw your face”
Cold heart melted, longed for your embrace
Your compassion and character shone
No longer could I live all alone
“You took my love and you took it down”
Felt lighter than air with feet on the ground
A love without chains, a soul unbound
But walls closed in as I watched you drown

"In a New York minute everything can change"
Sometimes life takes twists that seem strange
A human chain was formed to find my man
Reaching up was Daniel's lifeless hand
Efforts to save, resuscitate
Proved futile to fight the hands of fate
Casket sent home, called his folks to explain
“Daniel is traveling tonight on a plane”

*Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is” 
*Roberta Flack’s “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” 
*Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide”
*Don Henley's "In a New York Minute" 
*Elton John’s “Daniel”

By Carolyn Devonshire for Tracie's "Sing a Song for Me" contest.
Dedicated to my fiancé Daniel Sammons who drowned while we were swimming in a 
lake near Tallahassee, FL.

More great poems below...

Details | New York Poem | |

The Day the Eagle Cried

We will never forget exactly where we were, 
	We will never forget exactly what we were doing, 
		We could never forget the loss we felt – 9/11/01.

We saw the birth of amazing heroes,
	We mourned with the grief of thousands,
		We marveled at the strength of the human spirit.

It was the day we held our children more closely,
	It was the day the American Family was reborn,
		And the day we became “One Nation, Under God.”

We heard those resounding words, “A plane hit the tower”,
	We watched in disbelief as the second tower fell to earth,
		And we heard the most heroic of words, “Let’s Roll!”

There were so many lessons that we learned,
	There are so many memories to be held dear,
		There was “Old Glory” – still standing to give us hope.

Firemen, Policemen, Clergy and Civilians-
	Were taken from us in a few fleeting moments,
		We saw a flight of angels, and an Eagle cry.

We became the strongest and most formidable of enemies,
	The most united in spirit and purpose in decades,
		We were filled with renewed honor and pride.

Yes, we lost the very innocence of our being,
	We lost the complacency of everyday routine,
		But yet we gained so much more.

For now we know the true meaning of so many, many words –
	“Indivisible”, “In God We Trust”, “United We Stand”
    		and the most important of all -
			“Greater Love Hath No Man Than This”…

Details | New York Poem | |

A Boy Like Me?

In spite of it all....
Traveling over the Brooklyn Bridge, lights aglow
What a magnificent sight
Crossing the waters unto the city
Upon the dawning of the night....
On his way to New York, a kid from California
Doing the circuit about the East Coast
Still in awe of it all; newness, has yet to fall
From a very big world, in part, he has come to see
New York City~The Empire~The Towers~Times Square
Forty Second and Broadway~The Statue, of "Liberty"....
Dwarfed by the rises, and lost among the, the crowds
The only eyes that know him, smiling, and looking down
I did it all for you ~
Eyes wide, bright lights, colorful sights, skies
Thinking, where is Sachs Fifth Avenue? Broadway, straight ahead....
The collar of his trench coat turned upward, to cover the chill
From about his neck; this kid from California
Three thousand miles away from home
Smiling at everyone, as he passes them by
Exchanging good evenings, good days, and
Glimpses into their precious eyes....
Faces he'll someday remember, perhaps?
As he looks back, upon a moment
A day, a night, a time, in New York City, amid an East Coast journey
For a kid from California, once, upon a life ~
Grab a bite....I think I'll buy that watch
Deeper into the subway....The hands upon the towers clock
"Got a light?"~"Sorry, but I don't smoke" 
So, that's how they sound?
Their voices, with that certain, prominence
"No thanks, I'm fine," don't think, today
I need, to get high!....
Staring down and all around, in awe of it all, once again
All the lights, all the sights, far above...."Above"
I did it all for you ~
Bright eyes, smiling eyes, smiling faces
Beautiful faces, everywhere, he turned...."Stars"
With stories endless, like glitter, poured
The pages of their lives~The story, of "His" mankind.... 
To a kid from California, with  innocence, still, in his eyes ~
Upon the steets of New York City; doing an East Coast circuit
Long ago? Not really~But, once, upon a "Life"
"I did it all, for "You!"
A Boy Like Me?

Details | New York Poem | |

young American days

                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 



Details | New York Poem | |

he is leaving home

                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~

           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "


Details | New York Poem | |


A llegiance to no other VICE except a NEW YORK CITY ATTITUDE
B oroughs Brooklyn, Bronx, Manhattan, Queens and Staten island, take your pick
C ity that never sleeps
D isown your chewing gum on the sidewalk
E mpire state of mind is what you develop when living in NYC
F REAKS and freedom come out at night
G et the gusto and GO!
H arlem is where you need to be when converging in NEW YORK CITY
I n New York City manners are not usually common placed
J ust watch the closing DOORS, you'll be OK
K nowing an URBAN LEGEND is a prerequisite to NYC living
L eft FOOT losers lurk around EVERY other corner
M ost New Yorkers are always rushing off to work at rush hour then rushing back home
N ightlife, NEON lights and honking horns
O nly alliances are with other NYC loving metropolitans
P olice are there to assist (unless you need assistance)
Q uietness is not an option
R ising repeatedly to early morning blaring fire engines and loud radio playing
S taten Island ferry or would you rather the Statue of Liberty?
T imes Square New year eve testimonial, NYC for real!!
U nder no circumstances are you to ever AGITATE (piss off) a NYC police officer
V ery energized New Yorkers (metropolitans) visiting Broadway
W hy does NYC have a subway system? For tourists of course!
X marks the spot, you are HERE.
Y ou a New Yorker?
Z estfully going along for the ride. TAXI!!

This hype is NYC stereotype. ONLY IN NEW YORK. NYC IS a great place to visit and maybe you'd wanna live there. You GETTIN' in that TAXI?!  New York City Baabee!!

Details | New York Poem | |

West is the best

Sunny, warm 
Swimming, boating, sunning
Sky, airplane, ocean, seashells
Skiing, sledding, snowball throwing
Cold, blistery
New York City

Details | New York Poem | |

the love we had seemed so far away

i look to stars and wishes flew through space never to be heard again
fun to friends hearts do meld and break facing until time ends
this loop that plays and beats that syncopate become but a gem
pleasure a chest opened in surprise feeling no need to defend
galaxies away lonely planets  please keep me in mind
 distance could grow something fond or lost between the lines
gps my love you can see  its still where I  left it behind
thoughts fade away with life love lives forever in my rhyme

Im sorry, I wanted more,with  all this space between
disconnected and I still look to that day
we talked on the phone, our separate homes
the love we had seemed so far away

without air i couldnt breathe squeezed until I'm passing by
no water flow my skin would dry and I return to the sky
sunny days would blacken out, attracting need for desperate lies
to make up for the beauty lost from death slowly closing my eyes
that fire once sparking motion snuffed in huffs slipping away
dwifting I sway shaky grounds where once I sat easily and stay
upon my feet I still float drowning out all thoughts that stray
Tho these ends can come swift its worse to miss and hear you say

Im sorry, I wanted more,with  all this space between
disconnected and I still look to that day
we talked on the phone, our separate homes
the love we had seemed so far away

down the road,flying free, I ride the wave and hope for your return
through several seas and cloudy peaks, storms of sand, I will not turn
helpless to fate and future events, nothing prevents something to learn
  sights may not sore, nothing much looking more, isn't my concern
I hope the best and happyness is true to bless you, not just in dreams
we can meet when we sleep discussing life while sleeping seems
thanks for trying Im not exactly dying, banes of  sentient beings
real enough moving on is rough, i'll love you forever, writting my means

Details | New York Poem | |


Spoons. . .
Bright and shiny artful spoons,
How much she loved them.
They covered her mauve walls
In rich wooden frames
Encased behind glass.
Each unique silver spoon
With its own special story to tell.

There was Montana. . .
A silver cowboy riding a
Bucking bronc, enamel inlaid,
On a twilight blue sky
In a shield shaped form. . .
Each spoon from a different
Place--each contained bits
And pieces of her past.

She recalled the spring day
At a rodeo filled with surprises
And how cold her ears were.
How he dropped his truck keys
In her lap to keep safe for him--
How they later danced the two step
And how warm her ears became.
Oh yes, her Montana spoon was
Indeed a very special spoon!

Then there was New York with
Niagara Falls depicted on the handle.
A flood of romantic emotions returned
With this little beauty, maid of the mist
Engraved meticulously in its bowl.
The thunder of the falls-- how they
Kissed her cheeks, how He kissed
Her cheeks, and how they both laughed.
Oh, New York would never be forgotten!

Then there was Arizona. . .
A tiny replica of the Grand Canyon
Encircled with desert flowers
Adorned its rust colored handle.
She recalled how she arrived at dusk.
How she marveled at the friendliness
Of the deer walking in the parking lot.
How her camera slipped from her hands
Into his. She remembered that was
The moment they met. He too was a 
Photographer there to capture the sunset.
How the coffee they shared warmed 
Their hands—how he warmed her heart.

Row after row, spoon after spoon,
Wall after wall. . . . could tell it all!

For the contest: "Simply, Absolutely, Utterly Just Art" 	
Sponsored by: Sami Al-khalili 

Details | New York Poem | |



It was September eleventh two thousand one
A day the entire world was stunned
Two unopposed aircraft entered New York City
Leaving a trail of death without pity

Like missiles they hit the renowned Twin Towers
Reducing them to rubble in a matter of hours
The pilots who flew them had a mission to follow
Choosing to die just to please allah

They cared not a whit for the lives of others
They sought the praise of their Islamic brothers
At the cost of thousands of American lives
Their loyalty to allah became their prize

The revenge of American lives is yet unended
For fear that someone may be offended
The question is asked, what would we gain
While the blight on America still remains

Now ISIS has reared its ugly head
And two American journalists are dead
So acts of terrorism can't be denied
It began when the Statue of Liberty cried

	Curtis Moorman
	12 September 2014

Details | New York Poem | |

All Lives Matter

Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having 
a bad day.

Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't 
help but ask "where is humanity?"

Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.

Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.

How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
as help?

All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.

In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.

Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.

Details | New York Poem | |

New York Street Horse

Plunked down in chaos
from a gentler time,
blinkered from the traffic
he pulls the coach along.
Patient, in his harness bond
he tugs at hearts, with pathos-
as to his love of duty we respond. 
Amidst the screech of sirens
and the blasting horns,
he stands and dreams
of meadows in a nosebag.
Such rhythmic clicking of
 metal shoes on concrete,
full rolling of the carriage
wheels and he, confined,
down through the centuries
he thought he'd left behind.

Suzanne Delaney

Details | New York Poem | |


Went on a trip with the kids to New York 
For a month had lots of fun
Got second and third opinions on my vision
But yet there still is nothing that can be done
I felt like giving up I just wanted to run
Now I'm determined to fight the struggle has just begun
I felt so sad that I fell in a deep depression
Now I'm pointing myself in a whole new direction
In New York we went to the parks the beaches and the pool
Even the 16 hour ride on the amtrack was pretty cool
Out of everything I've been through one thing remains true
I would be a fool if I ever leave my family at poetry soup
I'm trying to pull myself together and get my life on track
But I just wanted you all to know Faleshia Murphy IS BACK

I love you all and I will be reading your poems
And posting every weekend that's all I can do for now
I have to take it slow but I will always be here.

Details | New York Poem | |

My New York State of Mind

Both the ignorant and wise

Have the nerve to criticize

But I've heard the crocodile cries

And the smiley-faced lies

Of those New York cynics


I’ve been bloodied and bruised

Wrongly blamed and bemused

Now negativity’s infused

All my patience has been used

By those New York cynics


Now I step on those stones

That once broke my bones

But I’ve become one of those drones

Just another of the clones

Yeah, I’m a New York cynic

Details | New York Poem | |

The New York Times

Its all of your imagination, 
The night life,  in the day time? All the shine, in the 
New York,  New York,  kinda times
New York times in the winter months imaginable, very cold, 
Let me really make it in a New York kinda mind frame , crystal clear, fashion with nothing, 
Nothing but the best,  and the rest is a block ago,  
at the end of the block, Turn left, 
Then in a quick New York minute, 
you'll see a big Christmas tree and ice skating rink, 
When you see the taxi with the big logo saying
 Go That away! 
You've only gone to far in a New York Kinda minute.

Details | New York Poem | |

Fabulous Fifties

Fabulous Fifties

is what they called it,

we just called it a good time.

It was a great time in history

to be a teenager, to have our

youth, it was a time for some

to rebel, others to grow up.

Movies were some of the best

TV shows were coming of age,

with I Love Lucy, Gunsmoke,

Donna Reed, Ozzie and Harriet,

which brought Ricky Nelson fame.

Who could forget Garry Cooper

in High Noon, or Ray Miland

plotting to kill his wife in

"Dial M For Murder".

No one would believe

Richard Carlson when he

told everyone that a space ship

had landed in the Arizona desert

in "It Came From Outer Space",

or the little boy who said

he saw a space ship land out in

his field and people kept

disappearing by falling through

the ground in "Invaders From Mars"

in 1953.

The Brooklyn Dodgers finally

brought home a World Championship

in 1955.  This year also brought

Rock 'n Roll to us teen agers

when Bill Halley and his Comets

had a hit with "Rock Around The Clock".

1956 was the first no-hitter when

Don Larsen of the New York Yankees

threw one against the Brookylyn Dodgers

in the World Series, it has not happen

before or since in the World Series.

The Fifties also brought us 3-D, way

before our so called 3-D  TV sets of today.

I remember seeing a few or so, wearing

those white glasses we thought we were

so cool.

Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley, Chuch Berry,

Little Richard and many others will

never have that many big music stars

again.  A New York Baseball team went

to the World Series every year of the

Fifties except 1959 and they would

have then also, if the Brooklyn Dodgers

had not moved to Los Angles.

The Fifties was a great time to

grow up, things would never be

the same again, our youth was left

in the Fifties, times would change

and leave us longing for those

good old days when old age

reached us.

Written 6-20-11

Details | New York Poem | |

Sati Mata in Jackson Heights

Sita's getting chubby;
"I'm pregnant," she claims.
Ma's henna-tinged hair
bursts into flames.

It never lived
but Ma shrieks "Honor is dead!"
Sita never wanted marriage
but now how will Sita wed?

At thirty-six
Sita's not a child.
That perfect plastic smile
her whole life she's smiled.


Ma is on fire.
She burns on the pyre
of dead traditions and parched dreams.
And life goes on.

Details | New York Poem | |

Fearing and Floating

It was so large
The New York Barge

If you wish to see
The Statue of Liberty

You board the boat
And away you float

My ornery friend
(Lifelong-till the end)

Refused to board the barge
It was packed and looked large

So I took a bandana
Blindfolded Marianna

Led my ornery pal
To the mid-ship locale

She protested ardently
I reassured her cheerfully

Made it to the island
But I had to hold her hand

As we climbed to the top
Oh my, what a drop

This was the only way
Her fears I could allay

Marianna felt proud
She’d made it through the crowd

But to this very day
She scowls at me in play

Whenever I mention
Our New York vacation

Her fear of the sea
Seems now gone, you see

But I’ll hold off on buying a cruise
Because my dear friend I would lose

To this day she’s ornery
But she’ll never be ordinary

*Entry for Carol Browns Ornery Best Friends contest.  True story.

Details | New York Poem | |


The city of New York wants to reduce the security guards at their agencies
Penny wise and pound foolish is what they’re coming to be
To try and save less than .05% in a budget that’s in the billions
To put a wrench in the safety and well-being of a city of 10 million

If’s there’re no security officers to watch over the DEP water sheds
What’s to stop terrorists from poisoning the water and thousands being dead?
If there’re no security officers at the DHS shelters 
the situation could be dire
As you won’t have enough personnel on hand 
to warn the clients when there’s a fire
If there’re no security officers at the Human Resources Administration sites
Who would be there to protect the workforce in the event of a fight?

Penny wise and pound foolish when it comes 
to our children’s safety and well being
If there’s no one to adequately clean the schools 
a major outbreak we might be seeing
Penny wise and pound foolish in regards to the City’s financial resource
Trying to save a few pennies while pounds of dollars
will be in litigation in the courts

If someone is hurt in a fall it’s the city they will sue
If someone dies in a fire it’s the city they will sue
If a worker is assaulted on the job it’s the city they will sue
So I ask New York City leaders, what are you going to do?
Penny wise and pound foolish when it comes to New Yorker’s safety
It’s time to stop all this nonsense and keep the school cleaners and security

Details | New York Poem | |


Driving home is a relaxing ride
when pretty lights dazzle on those New York's deserted streets
and more than the bright moon illuminating sidewalks with trees, 
they can easily enchant anyone!
Who has noticed, at dusk, how stillness
invades a city that earlier was too noisy?
Somehow, we must have awareness
of what is going on around us; isn't it dilly
to let a peaceful feeling take you on the quite road?
Drive and enjoy the awesome view, release the load!
When pretty lights dazzle on New York's avenues and boulevards,
admire the beautiful images that shadows can't obliterate,
watch them closer: see a purple sky vanishing behind clouds;
sit on a bench, be that poet who writes words that fascinate!  

Entered in nette oncloud's contest,
" Street Lights "
Written by Andrew Crisci on 10/7/2014

Details | New York Poem | |

New York City - Vicious Cycle

Pushed to the edge by reality, yes, these verses will stifle.

A revolving door always present; New York City....Vicious Cycle.

This is a poem about the hardships, and monotony of this age

The world unchanging in its essence....many problems to assuage.

Why is our purlieu in such predicaments, the morass so intense?

It seems the fire has been extinguished; in other words we've acquiesced.

Hallways, alleys, subway stations/where the weak and troubled roam.

Considered dross by our society, that's why the streets became their home.

Our youth in dire straits, how can they be redeemed?

High school dropouts, teenage suicide, and for meth my brothers fiend.

Homeless people are anathema; we seldom love the poor…

New York City...Vicious Cycle....where daily living is abhorred.

A nimbus cloud, can't see the acme/ Where Then Can Love Be Found?

The cacophony breaks the silence; the voice of weeping does resound.

Welfare parents in a quandary, just barely scraping by.

Elderly people doing no better...though receiving S.S.I.

New York City....Vicious Cycle, spreading like a deadly cancer.

Minority children disenfranchised; drug dealing is their answer.

Boys and girls, young and pretty/ jailbait, nowhere to run.

A perfect target for a pedophile; their tender lives have just begun.

Dark specters in every borough; people lost and living trifle.

Eight million stories, naked truth...New York City...Vicious Cycle.