New York, do you love me?

You’ve shown me such beauty.

You’ve shown me pain and grace.

You’ve made me stronger.

But do you love me?

You’ve given me a shot.

You’ve given me hardship and survival.

You’ve made me brave.

But do you love me?

Because you only seem to give me enough to keep me around.

And you never give me what I ask.

You never ask what I need.

And I love you

I’ve given you my time.

I’ve given you my fears and hopes.

I’ve made you my home.

Because I love you.

And I keep holding on, hoping you’ll show you love me too.

I keep bearing the wounds you inflict as if they prove my love.

But who can I be to you?

Can this be love?

New York, do you love me?

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