Ghost Towns
You would think this place was a ghost town If it weren't for the kickboxing class down the street. Houses sit on the edge of the brook With paint chipping, windows boarded, And a sense of abandonment sitting on the porch. Cobwebs creep up the railings Like disease in a third world country. Dreams lie in the cracked windowpanes, Waiting for someone to notice them. Down the street people buy pizza, Get their nails done, sit in an empty restaurant. The most action this little town sees Is trapped in cases at their quiet video store. A girls who grew up in the suburbs Is lost in this kind of place. You would think this place was a ghost town At this time of the day when all is silent; But I'm sure the residents lives are filled with schedules Their yards filled with history molded by their own hands; Their annual blueberry festival makes them proud, Despite the ghosts that outsiders see lurking in town. While tourists must think it's ...