The town whispers of its past
Where memories like shadows cast
Tumble-weed go gently by
In this ghost town where community died
Shops are boarded up, rents sky-high
No-one wants them or would even try
Bars close down along with them
As everyone struggles with the pretence
No money to go about
No jobs to be found
Everyone trying to put food on the table
Pay their bills, some unable
Many a ghost town does exist
The internet and high prices will persist
Many more people out of work
Their cries of desperation still unheard
One day it will be too late
For there will be nothing to save
All will be turned to rust
At worse, this ghost town ground to dust
Published by
Darren Greenidge
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 