Islands

I still stop by your place every day,
Wondering if you still want to play.
I hear the song, which words I penned
Back when we had made amends.
As I walk, I wonder what will fill that space,
Look each passing stranger in the face,
Hoping to feel the buzz of familiarity,
The sense of recognition, not disparity.
I see you in every single game
And flinch each time I hear your name.
You are the city that never sleeps,
Yet my slumber and my dreams it keeps;
The skyscrapers that shade my light,
But illuminate even the darkest night.
If I am this one, I lead the way,
But still mourn the ones that got away,
Reaching across the expanse of sea,
Holding my own torch of liberty.
Offerings of peace should not be mine,
You gave them back too many times.
But still I always stretch my hand,
Perhaps why you don't understand?
Maybe the drawbridge has been raised,
No more foreign passing trade,
To reconcile the islands two;
No man’s an island, not even you.
I heart no yieldless sense of pride,
That holds you back and stems love’s tide.
You did too little, I felt too much;
I’m out of luck, you’re out of touch.
Your town’s too young for this to be
And mine has too much history.
Lands that were once completely whole,
Were severed by a misjudged goal
That pushed you back to set you free,
Making no end to misery.
And now, new bridges must be built,
Despite resistance to the hilt.
Maybe the new world is not for me,
And with the old one you disagree?
A new fabric I’ll weave so tough,
If nylon is not strong enough.
I only wish it could be more
Than the same ocean on different shores.