The city's pulse is now a fading beat,
as I depart from this concrete street.
Where street lamps and traffic lights meet -
and memories make my soul complete.
I walk these paths one final time,
feel the cold wind blowing in urban rhyme.
fruits stalls, tea shops with whispered talk,
the evening shadows are now on the walk.
The pigeons cooing on the window sills,
almost a catwalk, surpassing all thrills.
The street sweeper sees the early light -
the labourer who barely sleeps at night.
The subway's roar now a distant sound,
in bright tunnels deep beneath the ground.
Here, infinite moving stories are found,
here in every station, those homebound.
The market stalls with colours bright,
the relentless city's never-ending fight.
I will miss the rain on windowpanes,
the city's joys and the city's pains.
Now, fare thee well, my city dear,
I must go now but I will hold you near.
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