nine years through the gaps

how long you been on drugs love

about nine years last week

that’s a long time

since I was sweet thirteen and cute man

GIrl in a bus station

look at this place it’s such a mess

it’s my flat, what’s it to you

you can’t want to live like this, do you?

what’s the fuck’s it got to do with you

neighbour’s complaining

about the rubbish in the back

they want to mind their own business

it’s just stuff, that’s all

and if it’s strewn around, it’s mine

the way you wouldn’t keep it

it ain’t your’s to keep it’s mine and it’s kept how I like it yeah?

so where’d you buy it from, who’s your dealer?

yeah? I’m going to tell you that am I?

I found it in a park, lying on a bench

one day that’s where we’ll find you love

beaten up and cold or worse

well I don’t feel fuck so what’s that to me

arrest me if you want

send me on your courses

you’ll get bored, you’ll chuck me out

because you don’t care

like no one else does

There are people in this country, that fall through the gaps, and lie there.  There are laws against what they do, so they get arrested.  It’s not considered serious, so they don’t stay inside for long.  They are soon out, back into the same life.  They make life crap for themselves, and everyone around them.  Do we actually do anything to stop it happening again?  Not really, we can’t afford to give them any support to get out of the hole they’re in, because we’ve given all the cash to the banks.  So we punish them by locking them up, it doesn’t work and we all know it, but it still happens.

This entry was published on February 28, 2012 at 1:00 am. It’s filed under Black and White, Photography, Poetry, Preston and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

One thought on “nine years through the gaps

  1. I can hear this conversation as I read.

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