The belly up bloater
wrapped in patches
A forgotten toter
lying in the ashes

No modern miscreant
nor stoic sophisticate
on their way perchance
would spare a glance

For those who once rose
past the proper show
have been replaced
in a falsehood and without grace

Those at play in the copper dirt
being robbed are now inert
left in the sadness of the shame
that so little of the past remains

Where is the hope
in a dreamer's eye
and the passion to reach
beyond the sky?

Can we carry
tomorrow somehow
across today's
restless sky?

Can we remember
who we are meant to be
in this our
Steampunk legacy?