Rose-tinted Glasses


London Town

Streets noisy but silent
bobby doesn’t beat, officers sleep
plastic bag an urban tumbleweed
a flower grows through the cracked pavement

pretty walls adorned, a distraction
reflected in a drunks puddle
give me a fag, got a spare pound,
nothing humble about this town

sirens replace screams
window curtains twitch
but still…
the sun comes out
lawns are mowed
trees bear fruit
flowers are on the table

typing letters forming words
a mish-mash of thoughts on the screen
most will never be seen
a sigh
a sip of tea
a drag on a fag
it isn’t so bad
ponders life while staring up at the sky
a tear drops from the eye

by Tracey-anne


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