The 52-floor building of 1973

A monolith of the old days, they say
You're the highest in our city
Back in 1973.
A piece of information tested
For General Studies of Primary three.
Fifty-two floors
We knew what that meant,
Got the picture.

Then came more, promised to shine brighter,
Landmarks of a new era:
C--K--- Centre, Bank of--- Tower,
And IFC - a feather on the crown,
Flaunting innocently our wealth and prosperity,
Yet...
Why do they sound so uncertain, so distant?

Is it because of what is silvery, or something glassy?
The same kind  of glint,
Like robots on a team.
Won't even say they're ugly, or an "eye-sore".
You won't call something ugly
When it is faceless,
Or, will you?

So you're bound to be forgotten
as you can't even retain your name.
Jardine House- another mediocrity.
But whenever I pass by the plaza
And see Henry Moore's "Double Ova",
My heart still feels
A queer kind of twitching,
Like something's missing
Forever.

By Tammy