I see the sagging concrete walls <br />Of tenements and tower blocks, <br />All daubed with tags they grimly bear <br />The badges of our age, <br />Each one defaced and yet they stand <br />As relics of this desperate time, <br />We're rodents trapped behind the bars <br />Confined within this cage. <br /> <br />I see myself yet close my eyes <br />For I was never part of this, <br />I was my hands of what's become <br />Of this the land I live, <br />Where paths are stained with gum and filth <br />And lead in circles no escape, <br />We tread the wheel that slowly turns <br />Yet freedom cannot give. <br /> <br />I see the boarded shops and stores <br />Which lie deserted and to let, <br />Bereft of life they once did thrive <br />But now those times have gone, <br />For which the wood was sacrificed <br />So too the meadows and the fields, <br />If I'd the choice I know which scene <br />I'd sooner gaze upon. <br /> <br />I see the old who have no hope <br />The youths without a place to go, <br />And hungry beggars on the streets <br />Through which the traffic pass, <br />No green to break the slabs of grey <br />Nor halt the march of urban blight, <br />A cancer that now lies amidst <br />Reflections in the glass.<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reflections-in-the-glass/
