ANDREW BLAKEMORE - Reflections In The Glass

I see the sagging concrete walls
Of tenements and tower blocks,
All daubed with tags they grimly bear
The badges of our age,
Each one defaced and yet they stand
As relics of this desperate time,
We're rodents trapped behind the bars
Confined within this cage.

I see myself yet close my eyes
For I was never part of this,
I was my hands of what's become
Of this the land I live,
Where paths are stained with gum and filth
And lead in circles no escape,
We tread the wheel that slowly turns
Yet freedom cannot give.

I see the boarded shops and stores
Which lie deserted and to let,
Bereft of life they once did thrive
But now those times have gone,
For which the wood was sacrificed
So too the meadows and the fields,
If I'd the choice I know which scene
I'd sooner gaze upon.

I see the old who have no hope
The youths without a place to go,
And hungry beggars on the streets
Through which the traffic pass,
No green to break the slabs of grey
Nor halt the march of urban blight,
A cancer that now lies amidst
Reflections in the glass.

ANDREW BLAKEMORE

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