Cities Die Too

This city is dead
and so are we.
So when the fog lifts
and words don’t sting
like cigarettes burn
we can finally leave.
But until that day
we’ll watch lakes freeze
and buildings collapse
and we’ll sit there and hope
that we’ll collapse too.
But we won’t be so lucky
as to have someone care.
And rain will drip through
the roofs of old houses
with holes in the walls
as we remember
that the people inside
those broken down walls
used to see light.
Now they look up
to see six feet of hate
and they lost their time
to turn tar filled lungs
to hearts that feel love.
So when we look left to right
through glazed over glass
and up flame embraced bricks
we remember that
this city is dead
and so are we.