History

The shattered town,
Lies beneath me.
It's old and broken,
Tired and forgotten.

It's ruins never leave,
Keeping their style,
Beneath the hot sun.
I'm still in denial.

I can't get over,
The truth within.
What lies beneath,
Is a deadly sin.

It's a history lost,
Except I remember,
The horror which captured,
That poor old mother.

To be exact,
It was my fine mum.
When she hid,
From the hot hot sun.

The town ate her soul.
It killed her.
And I had to leave,
Without a tiny slither.

I didn't have hope,
That's what I lost.
I blame this town,
For my life's cost.