Seeps into the brick work,
the old cobblestone,
the bricks and mortar,
the disused box
that no longer contains a phone.
It flows through the old bones,
The litter that blows through
the walking skeletons
of the city above
and their
ancestors below.
It's wherever people are.
Bigoted views appear.
Distrust, hatred and fear.
It's in the chimney stacks,
the cracks
that adorn the walls
where people mourn.
It's in the green grass,
the concrete and tarmac,
every church steeple,
every dim lit block of flats.
It's everywhere you walk,
under glaring electric light,
It's in the darkened alleys
way beyond midnight's weary eyes.
In the bus station
as the last one is arriving.
It's in the pubs
as the clients all dive in.
It's wherever people are.
Bigoted views appear.
Distrust, hatred and fear.
It's everywhere
people stop and stare,
They judge, they sneer,
snarl and growl,
a wild pack
of hounds all howling.
Baying for blood.
It's where we shop for food.
It's where the congregation collude.
It's in the streets we walk,
in vicious words they talk.
It's in the air we breathe.
Good people told to leave.
It's wherever people are.
Bigoted views appear.
Distrust, hatred and fear.
Thanks for reading
Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
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