Brooklynite Poem by Paula Glynn

The night has fallen,
Over Brooklyn,
That famous old place,
Full of stars, street walkers,
Workers, and the fallen,
Vibrant and full of fun loving people,
Congregating in pubs and bars,
Restaurants also full of clientele,
For even smooth criminals,
Operate here, living the dark life,
Living those neon nights,
Signs in shops,
And the array of neon lights,
Highlighting the variety of a world,
Where innocence is quickly lost,
Happiness at a high cost,
For this is Brooklynite,
These are neon lights,
Rock stars and actresses here,
Living it up, having all the luck,
Life worth millions,
Even those with lesser money,
To bathe in glory,
Guitars and pianos playing,
Seductive melodies,
In blues and jazz clubs and bars,
Beer, wine and champagne,
To celebrate the night,
Bodies moving to the music,
Men and women dressed to kill,
For they have class,
They have skill,
As the clock ticks on,
The morning soon to arrive,
In anticipation of a new night.