The mission clock
It keeps turning
The fires smoke
Each stack burning
The ruins nearby
A stark reminder
Of busier times
When life was kinder.
The old man who
Struggles to walk
Rubber tipped frame
Lop sided talk
To people who
Are not there
Cursing each
A laboured stare.
Children with chalk
Hop scotch away
Delightful giggles
Fill the air
School time gone
Till another day
Now is the time
To simply play.