This town is broken, it's at its zenith of low,
Scented by sewerage, as bins overflow.
Boarded up windows, shops in disrepair,
Such litter and rubbish, drives one to dispair.
Above every shop, typically a crack den,
Or a dodgy landlord, to each room squeezing 8 men.
Morning streets, men gather hoping for a saviour,
To pick them up, and use them as cheap labour.
Groups are both segregated, by faith and by culture,
With no initiatives made, to better perceive one another,
Whilst gangs fight it out, for there jurisdiction,
To feed the habits, of those poor souls with addiction.
So who is to blame for this whole sordid affair?
The media will say immigration, gang culture or on crime lays the bear.
But they miss the one and most critical thing,
That these are the trappings that poverty does bring.
©nox
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