366 – Love Letter To London

Poem number 366
.
Love Letter To London
.
Eastenders, cockles, jellied eels
I hate them all, not one appeals
Expensive houses, tiny flats
Choking smog, congestion tax
The Tube: A claustrophobic hell
I hate the noise, I hate the smell
Homeless people, filthy slums
Criminals and evil scum
A city full of dirt and grime
Cockney wideboys, endless crime
Muggings, shootings, drugs drugs drugs
Psycho-killers, mindless thugs
Lives cut short for coloured skin
Young hopes and dreams chucked in the bin
Children getting stabbed and shot
By other children, and for what?
For trainers, or unguarded word
For glancing at some geezer’s bird
A city with no grace or charm
Just severed wrists and needled arms
Oh London, misbegotten, low
The vilest place a man could know
There’s misery in every brick
In London, and it makes me sick.

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