You should have let it be

Between the corner where the pretty girl smokes
and a tired bus drags it's sides
was an empty shop
sign turned to closed
flipping the bird to the gleam beneath the grime
but gaps in dusty shelves wouldn't believe it
their circles still holding a place for tins
long rusted
rat chewed
and gone

still enough rust on the hinges to support the memories
of the good 'ol days
when East end mods snuck lunch into leather pockets
between the riots
but like the boots and backs of those mods
The signs too old to stay stiff
and ward off the weight of the brave new world any longer

now it flaps in the breeze sometimes
and the coffee tastes bittersweet
like memories of youth misspent
even the best of them
gotta bow their heads some time