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?