Bin Meant for Scenery
Crackle toed, hint of gin
Speed bumps, clapped in jocular splendour
Climate: school devoured dinners raided on a Saturday Night
Siren ringing ears and passers by splashed in bright lights
A focus on fashionable façades
A glorious undertaking in wicker basket flowers
Children gathering simple songs;
For he wanted no sorrow
A gift for tomorrow
Young life sprout from a box
A stage of moustaches
A mere fop
An Ozzie festival
Red blue clashing dictums
Laid down by victims of messages
Trinkets jingled in harmonic cacophony
Charmed wide eyed and bag free journeys
A training boot clattering with nylon pressed finery
A slip and a cut, an abrasion
A life-long evasion
An uncalled for intrusion
Not needed but seemingly endorsed
No chance for a reasonable discourse
To lay down some judgement
Reveal an open torment
Play down a clever thought
You must stay in your place
I must stay in my place
Drift along through weaving eternal difficulties
It is left
Copyright Patrick Turner-Lee 27th July 2015
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