the air silent with the memory



the images remain



there was once life and hell here



something of description filled the space



children chattering and making noise



always breaking something



neighbours yelling across the way



angy taxi drivers honking their horns



mothers hurrying to the market with their children



not a sound above the wind travels through here now.



no lonely pup begging for food



no children with tear stained faces awaiting charity.



no putrid smells of the unwashed ablusions



no rats crawling through the spaces



nothing.



even the rubble gives no clues to what was here



not one tangible identifyable piece of life or living



if only it would all come back, every stinking bit of it,



but it cant. not even God can fix it.



we lost our way.