You find them in every city and town in forgotten corners, away from the main dancefloor of life. Buildings left on the sidelines by circumstances and time. There usefulness taken away by the more glamorous ones.
They look back at you, wanting to tell their story. How people once filled their floors. Parts of their souls remaining in the wood and stone of the walls.
Time wears hard on them but does not change their fate. They stay in place, a certain disquieting peace about them. 
You move on though, not wanting to lose your place on the dancefloor of life.
David Young
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