Standing beneath the green tapestry,
Of tree branches above me,
I survey the scene in the forest.
Rusted iron posts jut out of the ground in protest.
Broken glass sparkles in the fading sun,
An eerie sunset signaling the day is done.
My search, however, to the contrary,
Through the overgrown 'Amusement City,'
Is only just beginning on this brisk autumn night.
Once brightened by a thousand lights,
The park, grown out of its glory days rests,
Amid the darkness and spider's nests.
Children's voices I still hear,
Of a day that is too dear,
To my heart and never sleeps.
How lonely for the mountains steep,
That this park once brought to life,
The rollercoaster, monsterlike, had seen much strife.
The Buccaneer, the Carrousel, Little Johnny's Hat Stall,
Alive at one time but doomed to fall.
Boarded up now thirty years,
'Amusement City' has endured our fears.
Its abandonment once caused tears.
But one man's trash is another's fortune,
And although the rides are broken,
It has spoken'

I still see the skeleton coaster in the dark,
Running again, all the cars,
Flying down the tracks, clickety clack,
Golden bulbs light up the track'

In my mind, the cars still clatter,
And to me, it's all that matters.