One In My Lovely City

My city has refused me for ever. It has refused to love me, to help and care about me. I hurry from the plane - to the plane, from station - to station, to darkness from darkness. I run, tormenting myself with memories. I run from troubles and fuss, and from myself. I hurry and wind the bandages of streets on my soul. but I find only paths into impasses and labyrinthes. I must decide to shout or not to shout, Now or then ... ...Fire burns in another's fireplace And it heats that house - not my house