so much
of the city
is decrepit
barren land
filled with
empty buildings
if you only
drive the
highways the
mirage remains
somewhat intact
but i drive
the backroads
where rust
is prevalent
among ruin

every flower
that pushes
through cracks
in concrete
is a reminder
there is joy
in birdsong
even as decay
feels constant
i lose sight
in my tired angst
so i travel
my aching chest
seeking salvations
in the desolate
corners of town
looking for
flashes of color
in an ocean
of cardiac decay