Good old days

I stood there at the window staring down at the city before me; a city of destruction where so many lives had been lost, a city constantly torn by war, fighting and pure hatred for its many enemies. Suddenly I felt a gnarly hand rest on my bony thin shoulder like the claw of a mighty eagle, 'Oh hi grandpa' I exclaimed without even turning round. 'This city is nothing like it used to be 'he breathed out,' In the beginning this was a place of peace where children would play happily in the streets and all was good.