Many a traveler stumbled down this road,
Losing bags, hitching rides,
Just moving on to the next place they happened to stop.
This road, the dirt now loose after years of abandonment,
Is the last remnant of an old town.
The town, once bright and beautiful,
Was a popular stop for passers-by,
As they left the hunting grounds in the mountains,
And headed home after a grueling winter with their game.
The town had the highest accommodations,
Hotels, restaurants, theaters,
This was where it all happened.
But as the decades turned over,
Travelers weren’t interested in those kinds of things anymore,
So the town changed.
Bars, clubs, and hookers now dotted the sidewalks,
Where beauty had once reigned.
Men stopped and moved on,
For there was nothing to stay for.
The town was hollow,
And eventually closed down as more legislation passed,
To protect those beautiful grounds in the mountains.
The remnants of the town were torn down for the new national park.
And the town was forgotten, for there was nothing valuable to remember it by.
No one missed it,
In fact, many were glad to see it gone.