Road to nowhere
Shabby Street
One wrong turn down Shabby Street
where driveways crumble on lots condemned.
Front doors boarded. No one’s home.
That car left long ago.
Ten years of stuff packed then hauled.
Toys tossed in dumpsters in the back.
Families shattered like broken glass.
Along the hall, in empty rooms,
dust settles between the cracks of warped floorboards.
Hope faded with pictures purged from the drawers.
Only wind stirs inside these walls,
A cold intruder who found his way
through cracked windows that feel no pain,
echos the whispers of forgotten names
So true of our present times,whilst those who caused it still live in luxury.
Ain't that the truth. Though I do so love the notion of the group bus tours of the AIG perp homes.
Sad but true.
You are very talented!
Kys,
Thank you. I feel the same about your writing. You are an amazing humorist.