I lost my voice
            And found it again
            Flitting past my eyes in between drops of rain
Wedged in between the graffiti on the walls
Hiding shyly in the whispers of cynical teenagers
Laughing from headphones and speakers.
I lost my passion
            And I found it again
            Buried deep within your streets and your stories
Frolicking within gently shaded parks
Wondering
I lost my heart
            And I found it again
            In gentle hands, beckoning me to the blackbox
Gentle hands, shoving me onto the stage
Gentle hands, thrusting a microphone before me
Gentle hands, roaring with applause as I stepped down
I found myself in the bright bursts of color
Mohawks and tattoos, murals and sculptures
Black, white, brown, yellow, the white of inclusive smiles
The orange of basketballs, the green of willow trees
            A city of obscure light gleaming proudly
            Through the murk of an empire of ostentatious shadows
You
Cleverly camouflaged as a collage
            Of coffee houses and college  kids
Shyly sleeping
            In the beautiful buzzing hive
            Of restless workers and drones
            With dollar bills clinging to their legs
            Making poisoned honey
                        Out of false pollen
You
My first stage, my second home , my seventh heaven
The city of roses, the city of angels, the safe haven
            For artists and poets, life-livers and life lovers
For dragon slayers and noble deed-doers, lost boys and little lost dogs.
You, there when I needed you, there when I wanted you
You, hidden by tall flashy skyscrapers, gouged by fast flashy cars
You, the beautiful, unassuming artistic girl next door who forced me to fall in love with you
You, beautified by the strange
You, who I call home.