This is Our Truth

This was the first in a series of poems that I submitted from a collection that I am currently building, tentatively entitled From the Closed Mines, By Closed Minds, in which I am endeavouring to portray the depth and (sometimes) harsh reality of Valleys life.

This is Our Truth

So far as I am concerned we are lower than vermin.

Everything is changing everywhere, expanse into nothing.

They built a bypass to forget about us.

What was once a childhood haunt is a kaleidescope of broken and burnt wood,

an unmended meld of wasted livelihood and forgotten men.

A reminder of who we were.

What we were.


This town is concentrated with frozen memories and false ideals.

The hills close us in but I long to escape.

Loose lips spill utterances of Paki shop poofters, Chinkys and Japs;

the nameless hands.

Reminders of who we are.

What we are.

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