Street lights filter through the smog,
blinking fireflies in the dark cloaks bog.
Night's a blanket, still but not silent,
that envelops and holds a musty defiance.
Siren shrieks echo and bounce,
a pallet of police light makes it easy to pounce.
Running away footfalls rise and drop,
like the unpredictable flicker of the checkerboard prop.
Crumbling brick walls decorate side streets,
walls that host splayed graffiti meet-and-greets.
These bizarre decorations are grown in the heart,
Graffiti is an unknown form of art.
Tall silver dominoes seem to fly,
but in reality, don't even graze the sky.
Sun rays spread like melting butter,
awakening the city's soft pitter-putter.
Night shies into stark alleyways,
as white light establishes its own domain.
Life spurts from doorways and buildings alike,
this shows that the Blinking City, has come to life.
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