Email Poem

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Poem

Berkshire is a landscape
Of beauty and perfection
Unless you live in Newbury
You'll cling to this perception
Even though this town
Seems quaint unto a stranger
He is yet to analyse
 the average locals behaviour
A rich man races horses
Then drives back to his village
A newburian's quite different
He'll sniff, he'll lie, he'll pillage
The highstreet displays character
Cafés, shops, all humble
Yet despite the architecture
Walk 10 minutes, you'll take a tumble
Because instead of affluence
And you'd hardly be surprised
There Are inbreds and their friends
On meow and bicycles, looking for a fight
Or boasting of their business
How on a bench they reproduced
Paired their genes in a manner vile
Another generation of no use
The girl speaks in tones so shril
The boy brags of being arrested
She didn't take her pill
And he got his genitals tested

Their parents are no different
It's why their youngens are this way
They yell from withered snouts
Melodramatically dismayed
But if you heard the content
Of their hostile cries
Why, you'd understand
There's nothing in their lives

And it's all because Newbury is really a shithole, you either leave here or rot here

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