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  October's Child

THE RECESSION





Moonlit shadows create shapes without sound
A city sleeps inside echoes of itself
Colors of twilight spread across the ground
Fingerprints of change spin the merry-go-round

A potpourri of patrons crowd the sidewalk café
The blueblood murmurs to himself
Strobe lights map the drive along the bay
Where tenuous breezes tease the ocean's spray

Scenes across town speak of tough times
Emptiness filling windows of vacant places
A place steeped in murder and heinous crimes
Vacated churches and bells without chimes

A bleak tangled corner of lingering recession
Where despair haunts the eyes in sullen faces
Words can not convey the losses or depression
Of a city now void of its used to be ` ` expression!

la récession

August 13, 2009





























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