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17 March 2017

a crumbling row-house

Oh the things it has seen since its erection, the second in a cluster of row-houses reverting back to dust in a run-down part of town. Oh the burbling laughter of childish joy, the harsh break-ups, the tender reconciliations! Now a ruin collapsing in upon itself, its rear bay windows a pile of rotten timbers piled on the ground below, home to barren walls and a handful of rats, the house near E. Preston and Washington in Middle East Baltimore still tells a story.

Today, however, its story is one of targeted neglect and scheduled urban blight. One of political promises broken. One of the purposeful disenfranchisement of people based on the color of their skin.

The hearts within these our brothers and sisters are soft yet mighty, always yielding in curiosity to the unusual and the extraordinary. These hearts are like the row-house, though - broken, neglected, and falling into disrepair. America, great America, what have we done? May the powers have mercy upon our souls.

americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥

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