Decay

There’s great decay in everything outside.
The streets are filled with decaying refuse.
The corners cower under the decaying stench
Of dead things— rats, cats, decaying flesh
Strewn over and under the decaying asphalt
Almost cracking. Decay is what this city has become
When once decay wasn’t even in its dictionary
But the decades have not been kind. Decay
Has taken over. Decay has become all and above.

Death and decay go hand in hand after all.
Dreams decay before they die.
This city was once a dream too, before decay
Took over. Now this city is like a decaying bone,
Maggots all over, nipping at the decaying sinew.
When will this decay end?



Poetry by Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
Written on 2026-01-15 at 16:17

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