City of stars: A poem

Sahil Chinoy/File

The city of stars shines for no one.


It is not the place for you to chase your dreams,

nor is it the place your dreams go to die.

It is not your saving grace,

but it is also not the cause of your downfall.  

The people of the city aren’t more accomodating —

but they aren’t less kind either.

They’re just people.

The lights are just lights.

The roads are paved for cars that are just cars.

And at the end of the day,

the sights and the sounds are just sensory overload.

Nothing more and nothing less.


They say it’s about location location location —

but it’s not.

Not really.

The buildings that reach for the sky

eventually grow tired and stop reaching.

The lights give way to the dark,

the roads give way to the earth —

but you do not give way to anything.

You are relentless,

a force to be reckoned with,

and the city is in awe of you.

All it can do is observe, stationary

as you move beyond its limits,

beyond its bounds,

beyond that which tries to hold you back.

It does not define you and never will.


The city of stars does not have the power to make you or break you.

It shines for no one but itself.

As should you.  

Contact Madelyn Peterson at [email protected].

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