Our Street



This was us
our street
before the bombs fell
and turned it to rubble
and ashes
and turned us to dust
and ashes.
This is us
our street
where the lights shine brightly
and the Liquor Store is open
for party goers,
where the buildings
stand neatly in line,
where tomorrows are
as predictable
as todays
still.
This is the US
where the bombs don’t fall.



https://literaryyard.com/…/breathless-and-our-street-poems/…

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