I wrote this when I moved from the county in Yorkshire to the big smoke while I was at university. It highlights the feeling of the City, or trys to.

Please give feedbacl

Thanks,
Lewy

The darkness of the street, the shadows of the tall buildings, many with broken windows which contrast against the vaguely dark grey purple smog filled sky, the streets are frozen as the wind howls from building to building, as litter blows and sticks to the wet sodden ground, dogs bark. These streets may look empty but there are always people here; the junk, the violent observers, drug dealers the prostitutes and pimps, the thieves, pickpockets and the drunken thugs the restless wandering old and homeless. I walk through these streets, avoiding eye contact, avoiding confrontation, and avoiding a switchblade in the back as the never stopping rain soaks through to the skin. This is the big city, a place for the strangers and foreigners to gather happily in their unawares that some day they will probably die here.
I came here nearly three years ago, with an intention to learn, to be educated. In these brief few years I have done just that, I have learned, learned to be thankful for all I have, to be myself and indulge in a happy life while I am still here. I have learned to love.