I don’t usually write anything other than free-verse. I just had the urge to play with rhyme this time (ha, ha). So many of my poems come from the darker parts of me, this time I just didn’t feel like being quite so serious. Even though it was a beautiful old building, and probably deserves better.
I think the title is honestly my favorite part. Anyway, I’ll put this one under a cut because I don’t want my other poems to feel embarrassed.
An Ode to an Old Building
Every day on my commute,
I pass the same old factory.
It stands alone and destitute,
A monument, satisfactory.
A relic of a bygone age,
My busy mind it does assuage.
One day I see my view transformed,
Half the building has been destroyed.
The remaining walls now seem malformed,
The character I loved, devoid.
The beauty that I took for granted,
Soon enough will be supplanted.
I never took its photograph,
This poem serves as epitaph.