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R.I.P (pages) - Of Life & Death

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riotssmA Modern Daydream

Having witnessed a few riots over the years, they are not particularly pleasant and more often then not, the innocent suffer the most. large cities are what breed the fuel needed for riots to feed on, and for this reason I stay away from them. I think this poem sums up my inherent dislikes and prejudices about urban existence

 

1. Morning breaks

 

Noisy traffic rushing by,
concrete jungle comes alive
It wakens the youth of a modern day,
and he rubs the sleep from out his eyes.
A boy of the modern times,
fighting and scratching every day in his life
Till one day he shouts "There is no way out,
the circle is closed, I'm just running about."

There's dirt in his streets,
there's violence and pain.
Signs of poverty - in the ghettos again
A child of the modern age,
searching for silver - looking for gold
With the drink and drugs, the mad and insane
Hear the streets cry, watch our young die
The circle revolves again and again

Drugs and despair, they walk hand in hand
Out in the waste - throughout this land
Walk along our streets by day
Past the drunkards screaming hate
Past the homeless in cardboard castles,
kids on the dole, the junkies and whores
- All Children of this modern world -
Then ask yourself why - our young have to die


Walk these streets of a modern world,
With the noise and stench that's killing our air
In our concrete wastelands of despair
Hear that baby cry? It's scared, confused
Her mother walks the streets
Streets where violence and greed reign supreme
So what else for her to do?
But await the night in this modern future dream

 

2. Evening falls.

Another evening has begun,
long after the moon has risen
Twilight hides the bleeding victim.
A victim of hate in this modern dream.
Then out of this dark and shadow land,
enter the pushers selling their wares
Offering release from this world,
into a new life - away from fear
Away from the city - but into despair

Walk past our hero standing alone,
quietly lost in his daydream.
Then as piercing sirens split the night.
It shatters his sound of silence,
and returns him back to the reality.
That is the city - that is his life
Watch our hero who walks alone
Into the streets that are his only home

 

3. Darkness rules

Look! here come the police in battledress,
marching on the ghetto
Met by flames that split the night,
like multi-colored sunbursts bright.
All around the people gather,
people screaming, people crying.
Missiles, stones, broken bones,
bottles, bricks all hurtle by
A smash of glass as petrol bombs fly

The slums in flames, people in fear.
Riot, violence - filling the air.
Reality of a modern wonderland everywhere.
The streets come alive with an eerie glow,
with burning cars and looted bars.
Amongst the crowd that's shouting loud,
A sane voice asks "will this madness end ?
Who is the enemy ? Who are our friends ?"

 

4. No light at the end of the night.

Another late night is over,
dawn has crept over the troubled city.
Even the stars retire - as if in pity.
Out of doors, into the battlefield,
emerge the citizens - dazed and confused -
While on a street, kneels a woman,
weeping for children yet to be born

Shops stand broken, robbed and looted.
Blood in the gutter flows brown with the dirt
Police patrol with eyes alert.
Among the wreckage a young man cries,
looks to his God and wonders why.
Whatever happened to our dreams
Our modern promise to the young?
A world of love, of peace and hope.
It all seems lost, gone up in smoke

Watch our hero as he dies,
eyes so glassy - open wide.
An empty needle by his side,
has now become the winner.
For him no more dreams of future glory.
He's just another closed chapter,
in a modern day dreams story

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