GHOST TOWN STILL ALIVE

Raggedy streets

Unkempt and without dignity

And overgrown with ragged foliage

Fence in the houses so bare

Falling apart in their glory

Paint that peels away from wood

Wood that peels away from moorings

Hopelessness that drifts like the smoke

From cigarettes that steal away health and money

So dearly needed

By so very many

Misguided assumptions and dreams

Lost among the fallen, never to crawl out

Only joy in the small pleasures they can manage

The flowers on the weeds

Holding on for dear life and love

As the house slips from foundation to mud

Inevitably dragging inhabitants down

To that from which they will not crawl out.