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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The Death of my Town (for Bradford, West Yorkshire, England) At first I was self-righteous and held the moral high ground On approaching the imminent death of my town Some days I would observe and shake my head And say loudly “You know, I think my town might be dead!” Looks on faces say should I no longer care? What can we do for the people out there? But the Town Hall had a plan There was some government money in the pan Which they spent on a big pond in the ground To fill with water, applaud themselves and stand around And that was supposed to revive our town Bring it back to life so we could once again be proud Visitors would flock from miles around To bask in the renewing of my town Which would filter round and round Dragging us all up off the ground Despite their plans, I did not know Just how quickly the death would take As I watched as the town’s thinning corpse Wither away....and start to decay I could not know how I would feel When its lifeless body was at last laid out That I no longer had the strength to shout Or believe in those who had told us to be proud But its people still hang about Without the means or strength to leave So they try to drown out the death of their town By drinking and drinking and drinking until they fall down And to those who were paid to save it and did not But stand by and let it fall down Wasting all that money On a pond in the ground I must believe the day will come When they must pay for what they have done At best competent At worst nowt’ Because I refuse to understand That all they could offer was a hole in the ground To prevent the death of my once loved town Trapping all those around Whilst their confidence rang out so loud Telling us all we had so much for to be proud But knowing they were simply Cursing us all to life in a dead town Although I believe they can still get out.....
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