By way of the factory
The streetlights in line
Dogs bark in the distance
The sunset it smiles.
Three miles from the centre
Of a town left to die
Mineshafts are empty
Closed shops fill the eye.
For sale signs
And for rental
But the rates
Are too high.
The concrete
The odd tree
That vandals
Destroy
A jungle of misery
No more is there joy.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: March 4th, 2025 04:38
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 38
Offline)
Comments4
Literally a description of urban decay and metaphorically this might be a description of a person. Haunting and leaving a feeling of isolation and decay. A sad poem well done.
thanks, very kind
Brings me to memories of expeditions in urban exploration. Our urban centres are in various states and conditions. It could be a mirror of ourselves if seen epithet open and honest eyes. 🙏🏻🕊
true, many thanks
A sad write of all to common a sight these days the slow decay of a vibrant place, abandoned and left to die slowly, equally would apply to us oldens, enjoyed the read
correct, thanking you
You are very welcome
Greetings How
hope you liked it
You're welcome
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