The artists don’t remove themselves from their comfortable café seats, <br />To put out this fire, <br />On this already crumbling city. <br /> <br />These trees have rooted themselves desperately towards decaying earth <br />For they have no where else to go, <br />But this already crumbling city. <br /> <br />The scene is dim with action, but heavy with unfinished words, <br />the Living Dead is redefined <br />in this already crumbling city. <br /> <br />My tears fall drying towards the streets of old loves, <br />Left behind in dust <br />With this already crumbling city. <br /> <br />The soft, but temperate, tides of change flow around, <br />And leave this place to sink alone <br />For love, lust and trust alike, <br />Friends and family’s trying ambitions turn to cries and rise <br />Towards boiling strife, <br />All attempts that differ, <br />they just dent, and diminish during lonely drinking times <br /> <br />but please….. <br />My already crumbling city…. <br />Please forgive my haste and brash, <br />Lasting and ringing words <br />Of well earned truth, <br />Please crumbling city….. <br />Just let go <br />Of <br />me<br /><br />Joshua Bantum<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-already-crumbling-city/
