Cul-de-Sac

I’ve been down this road before
A cliché, not much has changed
Same gravel crunches at my feet
Same cool breeze and grey skies
The lies in the clouds, it never rains
But the sun hides behind the flats
Two ups and downs, smoke-free chimneys
But pollution gets into your nose
And its thick and heavy with ash and dust
Soot, rust, dirt, shame and despair
Alcohol infested sewage, tobacco smoke
As a lost generation of midday children
Kick a ball against the fence and scream
Imitating idols they’ll never get to know
Chasing dreams, they’ll learn to forget
Grammar schools and illiteracy
Trained in the art of life, stealing cars
Learning to be from men who never were
And raised by women who loved them
Told individually they’ll never amount
To anything, put down whenever they stand
And walk with a certain pride in their shame
Then boys become men and infect
Another generation to sprout and go stale
As bricks age, and cars are cleaned
And colour on the curtains drain
And the only thing to ever change
Is the name the lost souls pray to  
As we continue to walk these roads untouched
with no clear end in sight and that’s despite
this road we walk, is a cul-de-sac.








 

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3 thoughts on “Cul-de-Sac

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