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I walked along the Seine
fond memories felt the same
Fine wine and curious onlookers
watched my smile as they passed
I paint by the river
where love
has only a sliver of chance
London is the man
to Paris's female
each complimenting the other
Among the rooftops
sings a lonely ballad
echoing thru Parisian dreams
Parisians love to incite love
for a Parisian without love
would rather die
than be without love
Artisans sit and talk over
the lack of money
while models sit
and are idolized in paint
I walk the streets of Paris
savoring all that the city
has to give
My words bleed onto
the Parisian metropolis
leaving one....wondering
who exactly...I am......


By mizclaws

© 2017 mizclaws (All rights reserved)


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