Broken ballerinas attached with strings
slump dazedly in the dusty floor,
feathers from a previously glorious phase
scattered in broken lumps
clumped with blood and tears.
Haunting violin laments
through a voice crackling
the loss of the past greats
as the gilded, stain-glassed ceiling
collapses with a tired groan
and shriek of rage and defiance —
but the yellow monsters sweep in
on wheels and elephant feet,
sweeping history and love and grace
for a new supermarket.