101 Disturbance Loud Music Playing

A rundown duplex in an old inner city place The walls smeared with dog in an outright disgrace It smelt of no hope and no future for her anyone more The neighbours complained of loud music and bad language behind her door We were called one evening and she answered to us Bleary eyes and drunk she wondered at the fuss The scars on her face a sad story told Of a car crash that maimed her in drink and speed story so old Photos showed there was a time when she was a good looker Gone now forever living life as a low class hooker When she spoke it was slurry and blubbery Wanting something she couldn’t have in a horror story We turned the music down and said it had to stop In a useless charade they was all that we got So we left to go back to the world She remained there a lost soul with little left to be held And alone she lived on in this downtrodden place In filth as a struggle with no time or grace I wrote on the log in upper case Music turned down AQOL NFPA in the appropriate place Once and a while we had to go back again For a similar job and a result that would never an end. © Paul Warren Poetry 101 is a police code for a disturbance.