City

 

This city is an old man-

Back broken beneath the

Weight of all the years before.

Buildings jut out 

Weary bones, thin rib cages.

Gaping window eyes blink

Broken glass tears.

This city is an old man-

Skin of buildings crumble into

Waves of wrinkles and sorrow.

Wheezing he shudders and

Wheezing he moans and

Feels his body falling away

With the years.

This city is an old man-

Breathe too hard and it will

Return to the dust.

Train comes through

As the Old Man whistles,

But the bricks of these buildings

Crack and groan every time 

Old Man moves

And the sky like his eyes are

Dimming in the night

And the young ones are springing up all around,

Forgetting him, leaving him behind-

My city is the city of an old man

Dilapidated, mourning older days,

Running to catch up to younger days

And everyone sees this old man,

This old city,

And says

“Well, bless your heart.”

 

This poem is about: 
My community

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