The Voice of the People ( After Jack Micheline)

I walk west from the Castlegate

I am the voice of the people

Walking west

I am the poet of the streets.

Walking slow

I am the voice of the City

Walking in the bitter cold

Hallowed ground beneath my feet.

 There must be something deeper than this

There must be something better than this

There must be something more than this

This place

This place where memory is displaced

And history is deleted by finger to key

This place where all available space

Is used to build vacant new buildings

This place is a waste of space

This place

Displaced

Like an ill- fitting face

This ...Life?

( Another poem from  a few years back, which I used to do at open mic nights)