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A poem about the seemingly endless Melbourne winter of 2008.


Submitted:Jan 19, 2011    Reads: 41    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Cruel winter winds
Shriek through old
Melbourne Town,
Freezing the very life from
Those whose lives have gone right down.

Street folk starve at Christmas
But freeze to death in June,
They see their sad lives slip away
And falter toward the tomb.

The luckless masses mill about
Huddled against the breeze,
But in the frigid winter night
They're sure to death to freeze.

They stagger through the frozen streets
Just trying to get warm,
But when the cold wind takes a life
Does anyone really mourn?

The cold, cruel wind of winter
Cuts through them like a knife,
And on the streets of
Melbourne Town
It steals away a life.

Still in Toorak all the millionaires
Live warmed beside a raging fire,
Indifferent to the fate of those
To whom living is such a trial.

Still in their ivory mansions
The rich folk live in peace,
While outside homeless folk
Die freezing in their sleep.

THE END
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts





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