The building was bare - its skeleton left.
A few bones protruding from its windows.
Those once welcoming doors now felt bereft.
And the flesh of memories no one knows.
But soon new cells will form and settle in.
The idle veins will pump with a new flow.
The bones will clatter creating a din,
and try to match the old fluorescent glow.
Brick by brick, step by step stones will be placed.
Light of a flame to dust off the lament.
The old tiles will wither to be replaced
with dabs of fresh paint, layers of cement.
Hope our hopes are not a fancy built-up
for they do not lie in building’s framework.
No comments:
Post a Comment