A Street Beyond Stokes CroftA Poem by Sel WhiteleyEven though you wear that green sweatshirt, batons hammering your soft flesh. Evict you. The crowd suffers a paralysis of breath. I muse over the life narrative that brought you here, think how people labelled you, Traveller, dirty gypsy b*****d. I know now this isn't just about Tescos opening, outcompeting a few, small grocery stores, corner shops but people arrested in an ever darkening corner of society. the closing of all avenues in their lives, recession; how the suited, batoned men, © 2011 Sel WhiteleyAuthor's Note
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Added on May 2, 2011Last Updated on May 3, 2011 Author
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