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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required SHOPPING IN BELFAST (70s Style) Hundreds of shuffling feet, herded like Cattle, through the big iron gates to the city Centre Through to the freezing sheltered holding area with its grey block walls and long protruding metal posts which hold up the roof The wind drives the rain, cold, cold rain, which drums a rhythm on the moss tainted plastic corrugated roof Handbags and shopping bags are surrendered onto a long line of big wooden tables Strangers in a dark Blue Uniform with peaked caps and mute expressions search through peoples personal belongings Then more strangers, seek out men at random, to further search their pockets, collars and hoods Policemen with Machine guns stand talking in small groups, one nods at me with a reassuring smile Nervous Young Soldiers grip their Rifles tightly and stare at people with a look of distain They spot a pretty girl, their glances fixed, their attention momentarily distracted Eventually we are there. We’re in the city Centre, now mum can trail me round the shops But wait! All the shops have more strangers in blue uniforms searching people and bags So much time being checked, even as a six year old, it makes you wonder if there's enough time left to shop Thoroughly searched and everything bought, out of the shops,feet tired and ready to go home Now on to the exit gates of the city, a city ringed with a green metal spiked fence, “the ring of steel” Nobody really wanted to hang around once darkness approached; the Centre wasn't very safe place at night No point waiting on a bus, the nightly riots where starting so services were suspended again It's a bit of a trek back home through the dusky, wet rain swept streets, sore feet or not Then soon, yeahhh, it's our house, some dinner and a bath in front of the fire. Bliss
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