Ghost Town
As I walk through the street, I see a town that used to be vibrant with life from outside my body
Bare bones of storefronts jutting out, covered by graffiti
People displaced by greed
Trash blowing in the wild like tumbleweeds
The infrastructure is beautiful
But the life is long gone
It can’t be our fault
It’s just how it goes
Bystanders to violence aren’t at fault, right?
My steps fall heavy on the dirty concrete
As I watch the scenery change
Less trash
Less mess
More pristine
More order
The heaviness leaves me
I feel hollow, but I’m lighter
My grief fades from my mind as I slip right back into normal life
Right back to where I’m supposed to be
Leaving the ghost town behind me and stepping back into what I know
Where I’m comfortable
Yet, I feel the eyes of the people who once lived there watch me
Their children robbed of the lives they could’ve lived
With every step I take, my feet are held up by the eyes’ corpses
My advantage passed down to me
Is the same advantage that was stolen from them
2 thoughts on "Ghost Town"
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Great compassion shown in this poem about class structure and struggle.
Thank you!!! I really appreciate that