Urban Writing
An epitaph spoilt by an oxymoron;
the journey of a twisted smile
within a plastic face;
a testimony of color sprayed in the subway,
overgrown and wanting- city bound.
My home base.
Sanctioned by the night,
steal from the darkness
and luminous pathways
within sweet, blinding light.
Steal to the streets
and recapture the home grounds.
City spaces, i’m home bound.
Where I long for a tomorrow
but I can’t get through today.
As the law enforces that we can’t spray
on the walls, there bares our mark,
from our covert, civic creed that hunts for open spaces
to leave our memories in the dark.
My people, my creed
enchant the common faces
with perilous and heroic statements.
Counter action; we place these in all places.
Testament to the memory
that we will gaze at through our dreams,
our people share the vision
with all but only from conservative screams.
Misunderstood so must be fearful.
Washed away from the public
but the images will be tagged
forever, dragged
down into the pits of our creation.
Relived by spraying
amongst the open spaces
that alter from the changing tides
of our mind.
Glory to the architects
whom compose the scriptures
that will be sprayed away in due time.
But will be avenged from the darkness
as the city walls are a canvas
of the reflections of our mind.
Copyright © Kelsey Kopec | Year Posted 2006
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