Ode to a Fallen Factory

You wonder
how long
it took,
how a small leak, ignored
became this,
a testament to the horrible power
of neglect,
a collapse, a conflagration,
roofs, floors, rubble, unrecognizable
one from the other,
a reminder of your own past,
your own time of falling apart.

This was once a prideful place.
A place where things got done.
Where people lived and worked.
Romances were fostered here,
and ended.
Hope was found and lost within these walls.

And now, this.
From neglect.
For that is how it works.
Life is a place of constant renewal,
or slow steps towards this horribly beautiful thing
you see before you.

But the foundation is still there.
buried perhaps, but there.
The walls are unexpectedly strong.
There is something to save
for those brave enough to begin
again.

About this poem.

I love old abandoned buildings. There is a story to each one. There is a rawness that reminds me of the darkest times in my own life. I see the awful beauty of the disaster before me. But I also see what was. What could be. And I sing paeans pf thanksgiving to the pastors and therapists and friends who helped me find my way back.

Tom