The City That Was

Standing at the edge, I feel the weight,

a city I’ve turned my back on, its gates

creak with memories of unreturned steps,

echoes in alleys where laughter now wept.

A photo arrives, where we once shared dreams,

a fountain, now dry, whispers ancient themes,

coins lie scattered, their wishes grown cold,

our secrets now tangled in shadows untold.

I trace the lines of the paths we once knew,

footsteps like ghosts in the cracks of the view,

a city I loved, now a ghost of my youth,

its streets hold the burdens, but not the truth.