“Sorry We’re Closed”
Broken glass crunching under your sneakers,
Sickening smoke hangs in the air.
A rabid game of finders and keepers;
The city’s been broken, it’s wounds laid bare.
Plastered on walls you see the old posters;
Demands of change and threats of war.
Someone’s taken the sign from the grocers
And hung it up on the court house door.