It was 1960

Only fifteen years after the War ended

(Though we did'nt know it) and the

Prevailing dogma, a brave new world meant

Knocking down brick terraces

(Often quite servicable)

To build ten-storey flats.

Kids like us played in derelict houses

Door-less and

Stripped of copper and roof-slates their

Dank stone cellars exciting with

What today they call memorabili...

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I’m not even angry at you

And I never was

Confused, yes

Hurt, yes

Frustrated, yes, but from confusion

I can’t be angry with you

Or at you

But I am angry

I’m angry that I put my best effort

That I tried so hard

I’m angry that this happened again

My best was not good enough

I’m angry that I ignored the signs

Such small flags

Warning me from the beginning

...

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