my breath like mist rolling into the air
but the view is not as days of old,
more and more neon lights pollute
and the situation worsens every year
for in the once pristine atmosphere
poets and writers were inspired,
now just ghosts from long ago.
Oh, the moon shines with all its majesty
but stars compete with the city far below
and although still an alluring sight
I lament the loss of stars at night.