The tall red buildings
have now faded and are no longer
the colour of ripe tomatoes
but simply like a faded old shirt
exisiting but unwanted
rotting from the inside

The only remainder
are the people
same people but now with
faces of broken dreams
poverty
empty vessels

The streets are dirty
and all neighborhoods are
falling apart in slow motion
as are the people

Except the financial palaces
put there by the corporations

Walking there in the cold November air
treading in footsteps of the past
you realize that once you called this
home

Eyes shut, remebering
the faces and the places
that once were a part of your life

This used to be home
I don't remember it feeling this empty