Urban Decay

October 18, 2017

This place wakes each day

at odds with itself;

loss of identity hurts like a hangover.

You see it in pixelated masses,

heads bowed on windless days,

no longer looking

to put a face to the future.


Monochrome skies,

heavy as lost hope,

stretch out to blurred edges

of a bland landscape

that offers no good side,

no smile, and says nothing.


Ill health has taken its toll:

bare trees no home

to grey-black birds

who circle in silence;

as eyeless windows

stare at tired space

from derelict bones of buildings.


Time brought decay

to these streets

whose only colour now

comes from the homeless,

curled in sleeping bags,

sprayed like graffiti on pavements.


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