St. Marks

Where my house used to stand

Is now rubble and dust

How my past has been erased

 

A mockery of my memories

Has now been made

Bulldozed, dumped into skips

 

While my friend holds a key

To a green coloured door

That will never open

 

My laughter, my joy, my pain, my tears

My trials and triumphs, victories and defeats

My oasis bearing witness to it all

 

It brought me warmth and solace

On cold winter days

On nights furnished with rains

 

The walls saw my metamorphosis

My bed, table and cupboard too

Holding secrets and ambitions

 

I hear that a new beast is rising

From the debris of the past

Held aloft by scaffoldings and cement

 

I sigh in despair but I know

Others will make their memories

Likes the ones I have held on to

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Filed under Me, Poetry

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