new york, rainy ’71

amidst the city’s hustle and grey,
a 28-year-old elizabeth finds her way.
a creative director, her title bold,
in new york’s heart, her dreams unfold.

through office window, city’s beat,
a view earned with sweat and heat.
lucky someone believed in her art,
but loneliness still tugged her heart.

grateful she should be, she knew,
yet emptiness crept in, it’s true.
with tasks to do and deadlines near,
unmotivated, she felt unclear.

down the elevator, she found her place,
a classy bar, a familiar face.
the bartender knew her well, it’s clear,
he poured the drink she held dear.

sitting aimlessly, she gazed around,
in a crowded bar, she felt unbound.
her eyes then caught a man in thought,
a reflection of her own heart’s fraught.

both souls adrift in the city’s throng,
unmotivated, their spirits long.
she glanced at news, a poignant tale,
america’s slumber, vietnam’s wail.

in deep thought, her mind did roam,
through city lights, a soulful poem.
her glass now empty, thoughts askew,
loneliness danced in a shade of blue.

why am i here? she wondered deep,
in this city’s pulse, her dreams to keep.
yet within her heart, she found the truth,
her loneliness bore a hidden youth.

for in success, she found her place,
in new york’s heart, her own embrace.
the city’s rhythm, her symphony,
a lonely melody, wild and free.

and as the night wore on its crown,
she sat in stillness, looking down.
the bottom of her glass she’d see,
in loneliness, she found her key.

for deep inside, she knew the truth,
her loneliness held endless youth.
in new york’s heart, she’d play her part,
a symphony of success, a work of art.