A Poem: Condemned

Dum, dum-dum, dum, dum dum
The irregular bass drum of rain
Finding it's way
Onto the flat above's floor.
I don't want to be here any more.
Not here, no maudlin overture
But in a building condemned, a kitchen with a soft floor
In a shell so lovely but abandoned to the ravages
Of time and space
And how I love this place,
And grieve for what a lack of love will surely erase.
It disintegrates
Before my eyes, nothing surprises me anymore.
The beetles on the floor
Just a testament to problems
Someone's chosen to ignore.
And now I'm waiting for
The bedroom ceiling to collapse and with a narrow miss,
Or unlucky hit,
Fall to the bed and bury me forever more
Because I deigned to love a ruin
And as it crumbles I, a fool, remain here waiting for the fall.

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…I don't write poetry very often, and normally I am not pleased with it (I am quite literal as a writer), but I awoke at 6am today to the sound of rain coming in to the flat above me somewhere overhead, and in my half-asleep state I wrote this.