They pulled apart my childhood brick by brick.
Replaced it with an edifice of glass,
Or sometimes steel or highly polished stone.
Assured me that this new design would last.
They changed the roads until the way was lost,
And signposts that I knew meant nothing more.
The landmarks that once helped me navigate
Reduced to photographs, labelled ‘before’.
But now I see the new torn down as well,
Its modern gleam no armour, no defence,
Against the cries of “Build us more and more!”
The clamour for elaborate pretense.
Trust nothing but the pictures that you find,
Imperfectly preserved inside your mind.