My town is a secret.
From the shimmering surface of the lake
Where summers dwindle to an anti-climax.
The twisting houses along roads
Slowly turned to dust
Trails of worn sneakers
Past the school no longer recognized
By the mansion full of wraiths and the road
Only she lives down there.
The faded blue boards of a store
Surrounded by unnaturally coloured ground.
The factory where clay people are born
Her house, the one who runs everyday.
Post Office, Train Station, broken down
Abandoned iron
Skate Park where sweet smoke drifts from the benches
The house full of newly made adults
Across, so many children yet none
Always talking behind drawn shades
The perfect closed community
Where fights go on behind closed doors
And become picked at until they’re clean
Until we make our own community
That’s how my town works