A city resurrected

The Wall as a symbol of the cruelty of the cold war,
A city interrupted.

The Wall dissected roads, amputated tramlines and dismembered some of its main thoroughfares.
A wide “death strip” marked by anti-vehicle trenches, mesh fencing, barbed wire.

And then, it was gone.
A city once wounded, now healed.

A new city rose, from ashes of decline
A burden lifted
The Wall felt like an unpleasant dream.

This is a found poem, made using words from an article in FT. After reading an article about the photographer John Davies I knew I had the poem. Being born in a Communist country and experiencing the fall of a regime I know how the Germans felt before and after the falling of the Wall. I hope a part of those feelings is embedded in this poem.

Published by Mesca

There are more than enough things you can find about me if you read my blog :)...

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: