Caveat: Random Poem #108

(Poem #409 on new numbering scheme)

The central part of Brisbane seems to me
not so unlike the kind of city found
across America; not famous ones
but rather boring cities full of cars
and buses and historic buildings now
just banks and farmers' kids who've fled their towns
because the dust and sun no longer give
them any hope - the city, though, is not
so big, yet people don't know who you are.
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