the rusted metal of bridges now trackless
the steel skeletons seen through un-paned portals of dirty,
cracked brick abandoned factories
the aged wooden, derelict outbuildings
the unkempt trackside vegetation
littered with remnants of life’s voyage
draws you to the past
giving you reasoning to future history, humanity,
the life of this country felt with your eyes
your eyes hearing the people who were,
but now hidden
as we build our beloved suburbia
as we clean up the gentrified city
as we sweep the blood and sweat of their flesh, their tears
under a carpet of what we call progress
(Copyright Steven S. Walsky 2007)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem