She dropped the kid at half 3 in her empty council flat,
A bottle to ease the pain as she screamed and wept away,
But she didn't know what to do - as blood flew up the walls,
She passed out drunk, woke up scared, and looked for someone to call,
But for everyone she knew and the people she knew she didn't know one who'd care.
So she carried the bundle wrapped in towels to the top of the concrete stairs,
And threw it hard with all her might and dashed its brains out there,
The neighbours had surely heard but no one ever came,
The police don't come out to this neighbourhood and find somebody to blame.
But when the smell got bad the landlord choked and called the IRA.
So we came down on a friday morning and on the bannister of wood,
What did I see but a set of baby teeth etched in there for good,
So we grabbed the body of the baby who had (officially) "fell",
Took him to the boiler house and sent him to a burning hell,
And the mother a kid herself sat in her cold flat feeling a sudden blast of heat.
She cried and cried a part of her died and she had no where to mourn,
No monument or cross or plaque or grave to mark where he had fallen,
So with a marker pen she decided on Andy, and wrote his name on the stairwell wall,
And people who come to the flat and see the name as they walk up the hall,
Have no idea the graffitti scrawled marks where an innocent angel was killed.
And thats all that remains of Andy, never given a chance,
Considering the other kids in that block of flats probably a kindness,
But she'll never know because she never tried and now his names on a grubby wall,
So this is a poem for all the names written dead upon the walls,
We cant ever talk about what we've done
but for every crime we ever done
theres a whole loada sentiment etched up on them walls.
Lord Forgive us.
A contest entry
- Blank Cheque by sca.
777 points, ended November 1, 2007, 48 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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A story to be said, and you can tell if perfect. My philosophy is that if it's dark and unique, it's amazing.
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agree completely
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Whoa this poem is filled with so much emotion I was strucken by it from beginning to end. This whole piece explains a story most people dont tell which makes it so unique and interesting. I love the ending because it speaks of more than just one person but everyone as a whole. You have done a lot with this poem and its turned out really amazing. Keep penning. (Defiantley going on my favs. :])
PlZDieFasterLove
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thank you very much, living in a tent atm so kinda hard to check out work but will have a look at some of your stuff asap! much love and thanks for the comment x
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A couple typos, but no biggie (i.e. should be [banister graffiti that’s]).
I think the last four lines are weaker than the rest of the poem.
=> Jess
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