I fell in love with a humble city.
Self titled: "a" second city

Though the stature may be forbearing
I helplessly stay still staring

Stand in elevation more than I
rejoice in seeing blue skies

If thou forced to give up marble for brick,
Proof of soul, instead of shtick.

Thine circles may be imperfect,
But more exciting in retrospect

Thy buildings be not grand, tall, Feel
relief! For I fear of fall!

Your water may flow freely.
But water is what gives life to all.

Lady, thy painted face you try to hide
behind thy shawl of asymmetry;

and so I say softly,

but miss,
thine hair I always miss.

(and thou art second to none)