Roll Over
Streets paved with broken dreamsCell blocks bursting at the seams
Avenues of deathly shade
The high-rise Hamlets lie decayed
Architects of all that is drab
Race out along a six lane slab
For each a highly powered machine
Returns them to their lairs of green
And those who took no part in the crime
Dwell cursed above the sprawling grime
And mark six numbers for the chance
To join in with the victory dance.
Poetry by Yanto
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Written on 2015-12-18 at 01:47
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