Rain drips through a crack in the ceiling,
each drop echoing in a liminal maze.
The walls still proclaim your favorite brand names,
though nothing remains to sell.
The decor is long since gone,
sold or sent to a landfill,
surrendered to mold and decay.
A sign still hangs from the roof,
guiding non-existent shoppers
to unmanned registers
and powerless escalators.
The mall entrance is blocked,
covered by a cheery facade,
as the rest of the world has moved on.
The hollow shell of a commercial empire,
which once spanned coast to coast…
reduced to naught but a ghost,
an abandoned building awaiting a new host.
Tyler DeWriter 