Ghost Town

The day was warm and dry,
The chill of fall had not yet fallen,
When the year went awry,
And all the crops were eaten.

The locusts, they came in swarms,
Devouring everyting in sight,
This sleepy town of farms,
Had nothing to help its plight.

Soon the locusts moved on,
And with them the town's future,
Which had become nothing but a pawn,
In the hand of Mother Nature.

Now the town is nothing but a ghost,
Just a shell left by its former host.