A Journey To My Place

A Journey To My Place – a poem.

on a journey to my place

privet hedges border every step I take

in the suburbs of the sub-urban streetscape

sycamores and limes line the roads

and whisper in the wind that blows over and around me

in the side roads dog turds

tightly wrapped in small black plastic bags adorn thorn bushes

like Christmas presents for people you don’t like

wide grassy spaces planned when land was under-developed

not over-valued

and made for people

not a population

appear like green wishes surprisingly granted

amid the careful and caring house-proud home owners

with their topiary and conservatories

live the feckless few

who just live there

who care not much about there or anywhere

and care less about themselves

the junior school hubbub with its manic laughter

screams of joy

the secondary school with its sprawl of litter

speaks of hopelessness

charity shops stuffed full of unwanted leavings smell

of times past

holidays and birthdays

people gone by

every other shop a food stop

cook no more we will feed your tired and hurried masses

with masses more than they should eat

cars and buses thrum past

some too slow some too fast

lairy youths on bicycles and scary youths on foot

wait for you to walk around them

and silently wish you wouldn’t

the only ones who say hello are the old ones

the ones who have survived everything

that is how they are

how they were brought up

polite, pleasant

they know there is nothing to be scared of

in this world or any other

though even they are losing that faith

one old boy barely nods now at my hello

and sadness shrinks my heart

knowing that at his coming end

he will just be disappointed in everything

like I am

privet hedges border every step I take

on a journey to my place

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