And free from oppression and precious up-keep.
Ignored and disguarded, left lonely to rot,
Those building where vibrance once dwelled on their plot.
An unearthly presence looms hollow and lifeless,
Ghosts made of memories reside there with mices.
Sunlight drips in through cracks in the structure,
And musters the courage to sit there in clusters.
The lobbys grow brambles and join with the gardens,
The outside is inside, the roof's on the carpet,
Walls with smashed windows, where doors used to squeek,
Join roof parts on the carpet in fragmented heaps.
The view gets no better from further away,
Eye-sores on sky-lines, worthless and grey.
In need of a make over, superflouse to say,
Just under the surface is urban decay. *END*