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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