City of marches,
chanting slogans,
masses on the move
to shout the odds.
Rituals and ceremonies,
bands and banners,
flags and plaques,
clash of gods.
City of heels
dug in and stubborn,
the past dictates
the future's path.
The smallest insult,
the neither-here-nor-there,
unleashes the force
of the demon's wrath.
City of hey boy,
wait a wee minute,
catch yourself on,
we know our rights.
The tunnel is long,
the tunnel is dark
and the only hope
is the bonfire lights.
Creative city
of words and music,
of stage and screen,
of performing arts.
The bigger picture
shows marvels and wonder,
creative city,
the sum of its parts.
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