The Mall Is Now a Ghost Town
If you need to ease your mind,
With silence ever vast.
The mail, a place where you will find,
The ghosts of retail past.
Starting in the parking lot,
With donut tire tracks,
Many empty days have brought,
The weeds out from the cracks.
The Mall is now a ghost town,
Near every store is closed.
Window paper falling down,
With empty space exposed.
Sears had left some years ago,
And Cinabon moved on,
Auntie Anne’s was next to go.
Even the Gap is gone!
The court of food, it still remains,
And filled with empty seats.
All that fill the waiting lanes,
Is tumbleweed receipts.
The escalator now will groan,
Up to the second story.
Where Spencer Gifts, it stands alone,
Of stores with former glory.
Roaming ghosts of those we’d gawk,
And those we had adorn.
But now only those that walk,
Old Ladies in the Morn.
If you take a certain stride,
You can hear them call.
The souls of valley girls inside,
This ghost town of a mall.
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