Urban safari

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Apoem about the joys of council estates

Submitted: March 04, 2013

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Submitted: March 04, 2013

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These council estates;

With high rise flats,

No ball game signs,

And flea ridden rats,

Sixteen year old mothers;

With five screaming brats,

The drunken dads;

In baseball caps,

*

Hookers on corners,

Dealers by the bins,

Needles in the playground;

That the kids play in,

A life of crime,

It's where it begins,

Youths in fancy clothes,

Wearing sovereign rings,

*

Teenagers in cars,

With their music loud,

Cruising along slowly,

With their windows down,

ASBO's and ankle tags;

Make their mothers proud,

Staying out late,

They hang around in crowds,

*

Being on Jeremy Kyle,

Is their claim to fame,

A local celebrity,

Who passed the blame,

With missing teeth,

And a useless brain,

Lie detector results,

Result in shame,

*

These council estates,

Aren't much fun,

Everyone's related,

Your sisters your mum,

Your brothers at the bank,

With a loaded gun,

Your dads a convict,

Whos on the run.


© Copyright 2017 Shane P. All rights reserved.

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