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BLACKPOOL - A Poem From 2018

Rows of games and attractions, Dressed in neon and silver. But the strings of lights are out, And the slot machine is broken. The house of fun is closed, And the wind swept streets are full of the satisfied customers, One of them is a drug addict and his mate is alcoholic. Their kid is crying as they’ve dropped their candy floss That is bouncing now like tumbleweed Past the boarded up hotels and rust infested scaffold that is slicing the sky in streaks of grey. The rollercoaster’s long since come to grinding halt, The trucks have stopped rolling and instead Screaming prams are pushed by Wide shoulders that plant themselves on the rivets of a peeling bench. Everything painted in reds and yellows to shine in the seaside sun, But the only sun that shines today is being unplugged for the night.

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