Enough, Bangor. Enough.

Another late night-write, I'm afraid.

I walk along the street of my born,

not quite a ghost, 

not really there at all.

I let you degrade

my being and for too long

I have been the renegade.

I left my school for another.

I was a social "cheater"

and branded a "traitor".

I felt thirteen again,

when I had holes ripped

in my bag by the pigmen

who tore off my key rings and badges.

I'm older now and I realized 

that I don't deserve

to be criticized

by you.

You.

because you don't know me, any more.

You were a bully and a brute

but now you are a down right bore.

I walk along the the street of my born,

sick of the sight 

of these transient 'friends' I mourned.

Forgotten by time, you're slipping through cracks.

I'm leaving in September.

And I'm never coming back.

Reviews

[ANTO]

Like you Elinor I never really fell in love with the city of my birth, Belfast and I don't understand the love that has made many poets and songwriters compose passionate laments about it. Perhaps that's a love that grows through distance via homesickness. I never left Belfast. I may never know.
You however.......
Good Luck
XX

[Elinor Williams]

Thank you! Yes, I've had a lot of friends that are no longer friends and it feels like my life has become centred around Bangor...but it's stale? everything's out of date and old and I've grown out of it :/ I guess it's coming of age! Thank you for the comment! x

[Sami Khalil]

A very interesting write...Thank you for sharing...:)