73 - Hotel In New York City Poem by nicola burkett

Mini bar empty
Metallic wrapper sweets
Ghost ships riding the hotel sheets
Tv crashed out
On the pavement floor
'Do Not Disturb' sign hanging on the door
A bathrobe missing
A towel or two
On the 13th floor with a spetacular view
Lipstick and powder left on the mirrors
Stack of green and credit cards
And outside the door 8 mean bodyguards
Champagne and strawberries
Rose petals in the bath
Wrapped around her skin like a winter scarf
10 in a bed
20 more on the floor
Leftovers of a party that was wild and hardcore
The world outside their alarm clock
The city that 'Never Sleeps'
In from the window the chaos slowly creeps
The emergencey sirens of pain
The signature sound of New York City
That morph the happy faces into guilt and pitty