Tombstone Tower Blocks

Tarnished tombstone tower blocks
Stand stark against the sky,
Tags tattooed on cold grey walls
Invasive to the eye;
A weed-grown, worn-down walkway
To a door directs my feet,
A segue into squalor
Yet better than the street.

A corridor, unclean, unlit
Bin bags of refuse rot,
A lift long lavatorial
It works less oft than not.
Fourteen flights of stained stone steps
One less than fragrant lift,
Sweeter far the stairs may be
Sweeter's far less swift.

Flat 14F, my humble home
Yet still the best I've known,
Uninviting to the eye
The space within my own.
On life's loves and luxuries
My "social" is seldom spent,
No take-aways, no "X-box" games
On basics my cheques went.

Above the window in the lounge
A lingering damp patch lurks,
Duct tape is no solution but
As camouflage it works.
Cheap emulsion hides the tape
They both hide cracks as well,
As home it's far from heaven
Yet better far than hell.

Still I keep my kitchen kempt
My toilet's tired but clean,
My lot in life may lay me low
I won't myself demean.
At times my spirit's as rundown as
These tombstone tower blocks,
No mansion "mon maison" may be
Yet better than a box.

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copyright DM Pamment 12th January 2012