Scum Slum Lords

pollution

Of course. There are. Those moments.
When our concerns don’t stem from boo- boo kissing sentimentality
but rather a juvenile and foot stomping indignancy.
About what we could and didn’t need to have said,
if we’d only known what lie ahead.
When we realize that we could have stayed as we were
and would have been just fine
to step over, ignore and eradicate lines.
A million units of breath saved instead of wasted
on forgiving those who never deserved
anything at all for their devious nerve.
Insults never thrown, kicks we missed kicking,
victories from fights that we could have been picking.
Instead of this lifelong repairing of seams ripped
along our sides.
Ugly gashes stretched wide with the stuffing spilled out
we’re required to hide.
Sweating, struggling, sobbing
hopeless, hurt and hobbling
“to keep up and buck up”
“be kind and not stuck up”
to avoid being labeled society’s muck up.
Just to discover the punishments meant
for the ones who lived lives which were foolishly spent
still means suffering for all none-the-less,
just a source of cheap kicks and free business
for the
slum lords to whom we are forced to pay rent.


by Ramsy

photo by Olly

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