City

It’s 3am, much quieter now, her favourite time of day
Crowds have been to have their fun, then just gone away
Lying there spreadeagled, like some raddled whore
Twitching tainted parody of who she was before

She knows she had real beauty, once when she was young
Men had been enraptured, and of her beauty sung
She had been so elegant, when first they came to her
Now a reeking sprawling mess, is all they can observe

She can never, ever, regain her dignity
Track marks on her body, all too clear to see
Veins begin to twitch, she can feel the need
Man returning to her, with his lust and with his greed

Where once he sang her praises, now all he does it take
She just lies there helpless, absorbing his mistakes
Like ants they pour upon her, devouring all they can
Tattered mists of memory, shade when it began

Ancient gums and cedar, had been her crowning glory
Barren tracts of houses drear, tell a sorry story
All the grand designs, promised when she started
Are like a lovers kiss,,, Forgotten when they parted

So she lies and waits, ‘til the horde arrives again
But in her restless twitching, you can feel her pain