Vacant Block. A poem.

Here lay a vacant block,
Strewn with the detritus
Of travellers, neighbours,
And vagrant necessity.
Overgrown and empty,
Awash in a sea of cynical
Disregard and circumstance.

You found it there,
A fine purchase, almost lost
In the crowd of lots
And auctioned showpieces.
You bought the block and built
It up, like Rome in a day,
Or perhaps Pompeii.

A vacant block, reborn,
Renewed and reconciled
And brought to life
Like Frankenstein
To stand tall again,
A furtive flower among trees,
A coal among diamonds.

And once you’d had your way
You left it as you found,
No patents on this concourse,
No reprieve or shallow grave.
Just a vacant block,
Overgrown and dreaming
Of more permanent renewal.

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poetry books - stevestillstanding
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Published by stevestillstanding

I’m a writer who loves tabletop role playing games, poetry, music, movies, comics, books and (you guessed it) writing. Occasionally I have something to say...

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