Upon the least well-crowded walk he finds brief solace from the noise and heat,
And yield to some strange influence that prompts his mind to mediate why
Rosenthal and Rosenthal have gone!

Said the name-plate upon the fast-shut shabby door passed which the footsteps
Tread unceasingly, citizens unknowing of those once happily chained within--
And once-contented slaves grieve distantly that the Rosenthals have gone!

A dusty vision tries to fail his eye but concrete-clear the rubble cannot hide
The evidence of some rebellious retreat that moon-like left a pocked-marked
Calling card announcing loud--'The Rosenthals have gone!'

No smiling dress now greets the opening door nor through a maze of jungle's
Leafy paths can prizes such rewards the teak-bound enterprise that men and
Womanfolk created here--the empty silence speaks 'The Rosenthals have gone.'

He sees and smells the fragrance and the feast when Rosenthals gave roses to a bride,
While gathered 'round sweet office tongues sang praises in a manner oft performed
But now--lonely echoes whisper, 'The Rosenthals have gone.'

What quirk of fate eroded this contented entourage? What factors caused them all
To suffer pain? When did their sweet success evaporate? Were depression and
Recession just to blame? The Rosenthals could answer--but they're gone!

He turns to go but meditation's wonder tags along--Dear Love, allow him to accept one
Simple fact--The Rosenthals have gone!