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Poembox: Nine Thousand, Two Hundred and Fifty

Written by Arts, Poetry

Huddled in vague clusters

Close to soaked, and shivering 

Cardboard casts contempt, our cries

Hack and slash at the lesions their lies

Leave on our skin, and our minds.


We push on, speaking and singing

Through unfair weather

Until the sun blesses us 

Equal in the radiance we all receive.


We go against the grain

As sunlight glints off the windows

Of unfinished construction projects

We paid for, still pay for,

And cannot even enter.

Last modified: 5th November 2020

One Response

  1. Heff says:

    Man like josh Beatty doing the most ?

    ?shout out that dude ?

    3up the boys on the streets ????
    Vote labour even if that dude Kieth wants to be a Tory he can’t be as bad as the actual ones ??‍♂️

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