The Ten Story Building

I am the ten-story building standing amidst towers and skyscrapers

To the discerning eye, I am a blot on the landscape, disparate to all others

The city is the vast concrete jungle they say,

and I am a ruin where no one choose to sit and stay.

To you I am a time machine reminding you of things you no longer want to hear.

My debris are falling as night and day passes and you keep away

The once strong connection has gone cob webbed, rusted, decomposed, barren

You are no longer attached to me and my wretched decay

Because the world is big, and next to others, I am small

Irreparably broken and dreary, my appeal to you had fade away

The world spins madly on and the light reflected on my windows are now obscure

So fast, so strong, so tenaciously the world leaves me behind, and you have moved on

Why did you build me if all you wanted to do was to knock me down?

Why did you raise me if all you wanted to do is bring me low?

Why did you make me soar to the clouds and suddenly abandon me in mid-air?

Why did you make me when all you wanted to do was break me into pieces?

- Kate, August 2011