Wretched, displaced, childhood truncated
'miss my friends and the rain on the rocks
sullen anger is a miserable defence
I'm crying in the spoils of the empire
Voiceless, cross-eyed, misshapen, dumb
I'm living behind the skirting board
A ring of expletives around my head
going over every bridge on the river Thames
Sixteen seasons rock and roll
memories fade in the clamour
Street names become poems and the underground
is a map of opportunity and freedom
The Stones, Chelsea and Mary Quant
Slone Square, The Kinks and The Old Kent Road
The statues are smaller then they first appeared
But the government has purchased Polaris
There is no malice in this place
just 12 million contending ambitions
Now and then I find some with me aligned
And occasional small acts of kindness
Sean Joyce
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/london-bridge-2/
