Death of a City

 The city is closed,

The bars have an eerie silence,

Even the last stubs in the ashtray,

Have been cleared out.

There's no chatter in the hallways,

Once where crowds used to throng.

The lovers have disappeared from the parks.

If you look carefully, you still won't find

Any traces of their wistful sighs,

Or their lingering looks.

The eyes of the future have shut,

Themselves to any arrivals or departures.

The ice cream shop is not even cold.

Cold is the opposite of hot, but

Such contradictions have gone down

The drain, seeped away into the sewage,

Sent far away into the unknown sea.

The colours have faded, no more

Blues, blacks, greens or pinks.

It is as if no one ever lived here.

No one inhabited this vast,

Wonderful, noisy, row of buildings,

Of soccer fields, car parks, 

Art galleries or food courts,

Where you could fill your hungry soul

With spicy broths and meat on the go.

Where did everyone go?

Did they vanish underground?

Did the predictions make them flee?

Did the fear of reality strike them down?

The city is closed. You are not welcome here

Any more. This city is closed.

See the barricades and turn around.