(Verse inspired by decaying neighborhoods)
old, sad blues notes swirl about;
the band plays on—
engulfing all in her melancholic strains.
a bright note sounds out
here and there,
unable to break free of the drone.
the band all spiffed in their 60’s best,
suit button and eye straining
while the band plays on and on,
never going anywhere.
a smack of paint here and there
a new façade
only hiding the ever-creeping decay.
sad, dreary buildings
clad in the 60’s finery,
watching time march by.
never quite able
to join the parade.
– Frank A. Mills