POEM: Changing Times

A city lies under the sea,
from unknown tragedy.
Ancient pillars stand still and tall.

Could we lose a city?

If we did, there’d be no sign;
it’d be washed to refuse.
Once towns lasted, but info perished;
now engine ‘s swapped for caboose.

And bad facts are like bad pennies
while streets change year to year,
and nothing outlasts those notions
that form the sum of fear.

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