Centralia, Pa Poem by Justin Gildow

In Centralia, PA
The residents, or what's left of them
They want to live out the rest of their
days here
In their homes
Not having or wanting to worry
They want to get on with their lives
Being as peaceful as they can
Being as peaceful as they are

Here in Centralia, PA
In my eyes
It's a ghost town
There's not much left here
The buildings are deserted
Or have been destroyed
Cars don't make much of an appearance
on the roads
As the gases lurk beneath the roads
Memories of Harry and James have been
written in chalk on the graffiti highway
Turns out they weren't forgotten
Don't know if they'll ever be forgotten

Trees and grass are in decay
In the color of yellow
Yet the cemetery looks as quiet as it's
ever been
Or always has
Or always will be

It's a cloudy day
Aren't they all, it seems
Here in Centralia, PA
There's not many dreamers who have dreams
That are still here
That are still living here

Oh Centralia, PA
It seems you burn on
And will burn forever
To others who have seen what it's like here
Especially me