Wednesday, 2 May 2018



                                   They've ruined my old street they have,
                                   they've blotted out the view.
                                   No far horizon can be seen,
                                   the place seems smaller too.

                                   The green field where I used to play,
                                   is long-since built upon.
                                   More kids today than ever was,
                                   but space to play has gone.
                                   The hills that once I spied afar,
                                   no longer meet my gaze.
                                   A looming building blocks them out,
                                   the street's seen better days.

                                   They call it progress - that's a laugh!
                                   The neighbourhood's a sight.
                                   Too many years of 'adding on'
                                   have packed it much too tight.

                                   And yet in dreams I see again
                                   the street I knew when young.
                                   In dreams, the dear remembered past
                                   seems near and less far-flung.

                                   So let me sleep and live in dreams,
                                   where things are as before.
                                   And if I could I'd never wake,
                                   and dream forevermore.

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