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My feet fall down the centre Of the old high street Right past the boarded windows And long closed doors, Your feet fell too, beside mine On the old high street Corners of your mouth turned down At cold dead stores. A hundred other feet fall On the old high street Faces pointed downward and Awash with blue You tugged my sleeve and pointed Down the old high street At zombies that surrounded Both me, and you They shuffled through the shambles Of the old high street None set foot inside a shop All baskets full We stood there, in the centre Of the old high street Whilst husks just wandered, soulless Down the high street new.
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Luke Meyers is a Welsh writer and poet who started writing during Lockdown. He has been published in anthologies by Icebreakers Lit, From One Line, and Muse Pie Press, as well as writing on Bluesky.
@sonnetsmith.bsky.social