Mythical New York

New York gave me a special glow, the day I left. A kind 

of an intangible little glow in the afterhours

Driving through the fog, and wet roads.

City lights still 

Aglow with radiance.

Mythical in it's appearance from afar---- Why did you have to come down to

earth. 

Yeah, on earth, it's a crime ridden slum of thousands of hooligans and rude bastards.

But tonight, let it be 

Special.

Let it be 

Gotham, Big Apple, Frank Sinatra.

Only a few people can see the glow 

And only in the fog.

Still let there be

Sex

Crime

Rude Bastards.

But, 

also,

Let there be

Ambitions

Actors making it to the top

Street vendors with the best damn stuff around

Mediocre street musicians pouring their souls out.

Let it be an ethereal city.

Let it be a Mythical New York.

Josh Maislin's Questions:

1. Is the theme portrayed accurately? 

2. Are the metaphors clear enough? 

3. Is the poem's structure okay? Too loose?