Wrapped in a package of hopes and dreams,
A land of fairytales and dragons,
An underbelly,
And demise.
Los Angeles.
Where thousands have flocked,
Day by day by day by year.
The gusto of youth fueled by the naivety of a spark,
Tinder catching fire, fueling,
Propelling the outward stars,
Beside you,
Catapulting one into the next stratosphere.
Nibble Nibble,
Connecting the dots
Of an upward constellation,
Created from inspirational,
Hope.
Hope, a place just between dream,
and uncertainty.
A place where all seems possible,
And a being could be more than just circumstance.
Hope,
An ability to transform current paradigms,
Into the next new chapter.
Hope,
A belief that something else is possible.
Los Angeles,
That beautiful temptress,
which churns off of that Hope.
With it's sweeping skycaps, and towering palms,
The shiny illusion of transformation.
Where there is no tried and true package for delivery,
And mantra or not sometimes your neighbor will reign,
And you may feel like you just got spat out of the tumble cycle,
With a smile.
A place where jealousy is a weight,
Which like no other nary does good,
But wear one down to muddled harshness.
A mistress lure for self preservation and inner success,
Above all else,
A place before people go to settle down.
A chapter,
A memory,
A pretty pretty picture,
Of a time in space-
Where youth will reign forever.
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