The City

The City
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The line outside
The shelter grows
Day by day,
Week by week.
The workers don’t recall
A month where numbers
Decreased, where less food
Was served in this lonely
Shelter, one of the few
In this forsaken city,
This forsaken state.
As the unemployed rise,
The homeless do.
More and more.
As this once proud city
Enters its death-throes.
The city is on a path
Chosen for it
By the elite, the chosen
Few to run it;
Its companies,
Their employers,
Forsake them; her.
Corruption is at a high,
The people have accepted
The city’s fate; reflect it.
They steal, they kill,
They fight, they die.
This once proud city
Has fallen.
Her once glimmering
Ideals, of community,
Of the greater good,
Have grown sick;
deceased,
Mutated as she is.
Green bills, plants,
White powder,
Reign supreme,
Only topped by the power
Of a bullet.





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