In an old city
The new takes over
As glass towers
Are built
To impress

Quietly
The old persists
Self-assured
In its simple majesty

Knowing that
It feeds
The very breath
And will
As long as
Its not killed

And then
When it is,
It'll still give
Becoming the beam
Of the new
Building or
A door

When those who
Built to grow
Are no more.