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Sweetly In My Headlights
I'm leaving this town and I won't look back. Not to the streets or the houses, nor the empty buissness or false corporates. I will not look to paved main street and its glamourous shopps that run up and down its gentle street lights, while the oldest of homes suffer that of industrial fraud. I will try to ignore these old parks and empty churches. Where hopeful men went to renew their faith, where women used to tend to their children, most over-grown rusted and broken. I will not follow along the river side where factorys collapse on top of old machinery meant for progress. I see perhaps all of this is a silent foretold accuracy of the slow building cataclysm shown in todays status. But I will try to ignore the dissapointing decline in my old home, try to ignore the rupture in society while I pack up and leave.
I will not notice the look on people as they see me abandon my town. I will not give care to those who are homeless, as there are millions in their place, and one good deed can not make up for the rest. Show no remorse as children walk by in tattered baggy clothing, while their parents struggle to put food on the table daily. Struggle to hold back tears as many poverty strucken, mentally unstable go without treatment or care, most labled as such because of drug abuse. Controll my anger as a minority from two blocks away is beaten near to death, simply because of "suspicion". Bite my tounge when a fancied politician promises change, hope, and fortune, but only for himself. However I will hold onto these chagrined streets in memorys and text written for a better time. Possibly to look to the past and find out how, when, where, and why it all went wrong.
