Down to earth
In dedication to my mother, and the author of this poem. R.I.P mum. X
The dirty streets are not dying
Runny– nosed kids
Barefoot and crying
Back to back houses
Smokey and black
Hot and cold water
And toilets they lack
Mother has never heard of the pill
Six little kids
And the baby is ill
Dad goes out and gets stones every night
Police always round cos he’s been in a fight
Prostitutes parade up and down at night
They’ll give you sweet love
If the money is right
No tea tonight
The money hasn’t come
Down the dole tomorrow
Raise HELL mum
She has her barbs
He has his meths
God their lives are in a mess.
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A poem written by my mother when was was just a little girl.
Poen written by Amanda Jane Gray
#AboutBackClassDayInOfPoemStreetsTheTheWorkingWritten #ALondon
