Old Town

She is dying,
from the river
to the church,
in ignorance
and indifference,
under garbage
and graffiti,
dying

She is aging,
from the old gate
to the mount,
she is drowning
in the dirt of years,
in tragedy and tears,
dying

She is breaking,
from the centre
to the estuary,
falling to the future,
we will be the losers,
cant you hear her crying?
She is
dying.

© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com

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