Stone steps,
repetition, repetition, repetition
stones steps, clicking twists.
Musky air, wonderful sewage smells.

An old building in a new city,
waiting for change to compel its walls to move.
Hidden anguish gushes from it's seems.
"Please don't forget me!"
People used to remember.
Now if they notice, they say "Why should such an old building remain? Why don't they tear down those broken walls? Why don't they rid the world of a useless building?"
Dirt smeared bricks. Fallen from ages of decay. Lying as a memento of a forgotten age. Remembrance is but a dream. A dream slipping through a rushing stream.