Stain on my City

Pigeons living in steel girders under bridges

Travelling on the tram past a scrapyard

A house sized pile of unloved fridges

 

An overweight man offends my senses

Stains on his tracksuit

A stain on my city

 

Initially I regret the contempt

I have towards him and his life

We only get one attempt

He wasted his

 

And still we pay

But we’re not at fault

For his Faults

 

Life is hard for most

It’s the curse of the gift

But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna carry someone

That expects the lift

 

© copyright sbarlow 2012

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