The Literary Doc

Beneath new glass, the old stones still remain, Past whispers softly through the rush and rain. We build tomorrow with yesterday in view, Where ancient roots still break the concrete through. Between what was and all we strive to be, We shape our future from shared memory. Beneath the pavement, older footsteps sleep. Beneath the towers, deeper foundations keep The weight of names, of stories left untold, Their traces hidden under steel and gold. The world remakes itself with