A poem inspired by a visit back to the town I grew up in.
Faces drawn tight
By not enough and nothing to spare
Hollowed eyes
Hope dried up long ago
Eyes downcast
Shoulders hunched
Voices quiet
Or ringing with a frantic peal
Boarded up windows
“To let” signs fading with age
Thanks to the customers
Too frugal and too few
Discount shops
Pawn shops
Charity shops
Where once there were just shops
Dozens of jobs advertised
With nobody applying
Because who wants to board a sinking ship?
A place to survive, not to live
That last line. Wow.