The first thing that hits me:
I'm afraid someone's going to hit me
I'm afraid of the people
Their faces
They're loud
Harsh voices
Teenagers
Unphased
Owning the street
Small children
Playing out
Unattended
- That's nice to see
But the faces!
So twisted
Demented
A broken-nosed drunk
- Perhaps retarded? -
Slurs at his children
- Children! By God -
And another man, on a phone
His three toddlers playing in rubble
Something about number plates
Maybe innocent
The fields smell of dogshit
The streets smell of dogpiss
There's garbage everywhere
- The wind blows the garbage
That's true enough
But it's the people that drop it in the first place
Because they don't care
The garbage is everywhere
And I'm afraid of this place
Still, the sunset's a beauty
And certain people smile
And memories are everywhere
Someone should clean this up...
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