Poetry Project 2017: Day 47

In this town everybody is dead or dying.
In this town bodies are shrinking and wrinkling.
In this town silence reins all day.
In this town no children laugh or play.

It is a town of the past.
It is a town of the boom.
It is a town of the aged.
It is a town at it's end.

Among the trees, human decay.
Among the fields, leftover things.
Among the hills, dilapidated houses.
Among the houses, decrepit people.

Your time is drawing to a close.
Your life was long and hard.
Your work is coming to an end.
Your place is no longer here.

No young people will live here.
No young people will stay.
No young people can revive this town.
No young people are left.

Sleep now, quiet town.
Sleep and let nature reclaim you.
Sleep and hold your memories.
Sleep and dream of long-gone families.

Goodnight Hanamatsuri.
Goodnight to towns just like you.
Goodnight to people who are passing on.
Goodnight to an era we've moved beyond.
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