The Face Of The Past

• Laura Bucci, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2011

The iconic smiling face warps into a horrendous mask of sorrow.
The horrific blinding lights flicker as they signal sheer terror.
The rich primary colours drain out into shades of black and white.
The remains of Luna Park are illuminated by the moonlight.

The screams of humans that once were, whisper chillingly throughout the park.
The night’s hair-raising breeze gently pushes the rides to creak.
The memories of carnival music linger eerily throughout the night.
The bodiless clowns with their mouths open wide gradually rotate their heads and catch my sight.

The rats, scavenging for the tiniest of food scraps, scurry to a fro.
The weakened scent of popcorn and candy wilts away in the wind.
The dust and cobwebs cage in all the used-to-be food stands and bring them to a descent.
The sideshows, filled with worn out teddy bears, their eyes glistening with abandonment.

And as I stand there imagining what Luna Park would have been like,
Mum grabs hold of my hand and takes me through the entrance of Disneyland.