Detroit: a poem

in poem •  6 years ago 

Detroit

Half ash
Half ruins

It all smells like urine

The rust belt loostens it's belt
As it's stomach bloats of starvation

It's grumblings and death rattles
Heard in the gunshots, broken windows, kicked in doors

Every day just another day in a war without end for it's youth
Another day waiting to die for it's old

In Detroit these are the two stages of life

In it's death throes Detroit even found a way to kill the light

Making a place that is vantablack
Hopelessness incarnate
A hellmouth

It would be a better fate to die twice
Than to live in Detroit

The only reprieve is to see in the lack of civilization
Nature returning
Plants bursting through concrete
Trees growing through abandoned elevator shafts and twisting through skyscrapers
Deer grazing in it's abandoned lots
Bears bathing and fishing in the rivers that run through

Cars burnt and left so long ago their rusted metals fall to the ground and form new ones.

Houses long abandoned the city won't demolish sinking into the ground with the wood decomposing

It tells us while things will never be better

It will be over

For we are men and this is not ours if we are so unfit to maintain it

One day the sewage will no longer burn through the streets
The river will no longer be irradiated
Lives will not be lost as there are no lives left to lose
And this place will not even be called Detroit as animals that will inherit it do not know names
It will not even be a memory

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