these streets, where younger legs once ran,

will echo with sneakers and anger long after our time.

the asphalt and concrete radiate desperation and heat,

adding fuel to the madnesses between structures.

those houses, where the plaster was hope, sealing pain safe in walls,

we would crack the windows and doors to delay detonation.

dreams caught in rafters and died in stifling attics,

living room screens held us rapt and promised empty escape routes.

homes and hearts where I would hide are dead and demolished,

dim eyes and welling tears make it hard to look back.

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