The Vanity Ballroom Poem by Angela Wybrow

Like an Aztec temple, there it stood,
With its polished floor of maple wood.
Upon its stage, the dance bands played,
While couples danced the night away.

Jazz and swing were all the rage,
And many greats graced its stage;
It only played host to the very best:
Duke Ellington himself was among the guests.

It was once the toast of Detroit town:
A glittering jewel set in its crown.
For three whole decades, it entertained,
But its popularity then sadly waned.

It found itself soon counting the cost,
And this precious jewel was all but lost.
This beautiful building has gone to waste
Because of a change in musical tastes.

The Vanity's once splendid palatial ballroom
Is now cloaked in darkness - a deathly tomb.
Broken bottles now lie littering its floor;
Through its roof, much water has poured.

With its broken windows and battered concrete,
The state of the place is miles from great.
Some of its lustre may have been lost:
Grime has replaced its mirror-like gloss.

Within its walls, many vagrants have slept;
Through its hall, many looters have crept.
It's now stood in a state of disrepair;
About its future, few folk truly do care.

It once was a place so completely adored:
Now it's a place so completely ignored.
If it could be restored back to its former glory,
It could have a happy ending to its sad story.