Oh, Lamppost, you light my way through the streets in the darkest of hours.
You give life to the sidewalk as the skyscrapers tower.
You hold my hand as I walk down the river,
Giving me warmth so that I don’t shiver.
You clear my head of worries,
And unlock the door to my mind,
As you look deeper inside,
I wonder what you hope to find.
You hold the light of the stars,
But when I look again,
All you are,
Is my little lamppost friend.
Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 3:29 PM UTC
Oh, Lamppost, you light my way through the streets in the darkest of hours.
You give life to the sidewalk as the skyscrapers tower.
You hold my hand as I walk down the river,
Giving me warmth so that I don’t shiver.
You clear my head of worries,
And unlock the door to my mind,
As you look deeper inside,
I wonder what you hope to find.
You hold the light of the stars,
But when I look again,
All you are,
Is my little lamppost friend.
I wrote this for school but I thought it was a good representation of how random objects in the city have a lot of personality.
