Is it too late for yesterday?
A reel of memories on replay;
The Lions roar turned out the lights
Casting the day into the night
Hiding under the Chelsea Bridge
Haunted by the London Blitz
Smoke stings her weathered grey skin
A mighty war she was breathing in
Fightin’ them for bread and water
A small bereft southern daughter
Blasted out of her rub-a-dub
Just her and her little cub.
What happens when tomorrow comes
Will she be cast back into the slums
collateral damage of this time
where being poor was a crime.
The photos linger in the past
But the stigma will always last
Just a shot of another place
Another time in another space.
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A beautiful poem.
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Thanks 🙂
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Love this Charlie – my favourite bit is “The photos linger in the past / Nut the stigma will always last”. Very evocative of England and your time spent there no doubt. Can’t wait to read more of your pieces and to share them this month 🙂
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Thank you 🙂
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