Ruins Of A City

Two-thousand and six,
What the old man said to me
Amid the
Black ruins of a city:

"This house is dying.
These stones will soon decay.

Ill weather will wash away
the names
and dates of our living and dying.
Only our bones will remain.

Our memories will grow gray.
We'll grow old like cowards,
dragging our burdensome
lives behind us. "

By Mr.Topo

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