The streets weren’t just streets
The dust wasn’t just dust
And the abandoned houses
Smelled of stale cigarettes.
Hastily painted white walls
Desperation still visible under the cracked acrylic
A half broken radiator
Struggled to stay active
As if it was on its last heartbeat.
Warmth no longer provided
To the outcasts
Forced to rot in the ghetto.
The Nuclear Cottage 