They stifle me, <br />those tall, tenement buildings <br />with their walkways enticing crime, <br />luring thugs with knives <br />to wander up, unhindered, <br />along stone staircases that lead to <br />institutionalised front doors <br />of greens or dull blues. <br /> <br />Don't go inside, <br />don't look behind those doors <br />where kitchens overflow <br />with last nights cups and plates <br />and bits of stew and fag ash. <br />Where carpets stick to shoes <br />and cigarette butts lie, dead, <br />along the dust ridden edges. <br /> <br />There are no excuses, <br />who can we blame, who? <br />Not the council workers, no. <br />Not the occupants, <br />they're deprived, they're needy. <br />Not the rich or middle classes, <br />they off load the blame <br />but I can't breathe, I can't breathe.<br /><br />Ruth Walters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/can-t-breathe-6/
