The Factory

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There exists a factory near the place of my birth

Where more than just parts were produced

But people too;

Providing food and shelter; health and a future.

For my memories sake I drove past it just the other day

Ready to indulge my mind through the

Baptism of recollection.

I willed my eyes in its direction

And found much to my surprise

The gigantic parking lot full of only weeds,

Which seemed to transcend the pavement.

My heart despaired as the once immense structure

Lay vacant like an old ghost town.

 

On that day my memory died.

 

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