Wood that crumbles to the touch,
Silence that becomes too much,
Foot prints on the dusty floor,
Of an old forgotten store.
Broken windows in a room,
And a cob web covered broom,
No one sees the sun go down,
In this old forgotten town.
Darkness brings familiar fears,
As the shadows disappear,
Walking down this empty street,
Feeling somehow incomplete.
I dream while I am still awake,
But with every step I take,
I always stop to look around,
At memories in this old ghost town.