‘Falling life expectancy in the poorest communities is a deeply worrying indicator of the state of our nation’s health, and shows that we are leaving the most vulnerable out of the collective gain’ Independent, 28.11.18

What's this area got?
Not a lot of jobs, or prospects, or money
There's no des-res for burnt out
City execs round here.
But there is plenty of poverty, and plenty of fear.
Look around, you'll see:
No antique shoppes, just second hand tat.
No cosy-nooks, just wind-swept litter-strewn parks,
Plenty of pubs, bookies, boarded-up shops
Multi-lingual tower-blocks, closed churches.
Young girls on the corners,
knife fights at night.
Look around the concrete precinct 
Where the homeless flop.
The stinking fly-postered underpasses.
Hurrying, stressed out, suspicious, frightened people
Faces, too red or too white to be right,
Show the hard facts of life around here:
Poor diet, bad sleep, too much alcohol.
Kids with pinched faces, trainers bought on the never-never
Underweight or fat
With all too brief a childhood.
Teenage mums at the end
Of their tether at eighteen
Too many crammed into pokey flats
A breeding ground for the virus.
No social-distancing here. 
And the dole too small
And the flats too damp
Oh! there's little romance round here
It's hard staying alive round here
What with the gangs and the muggings and the drugs
Corners are cut
Strokes are pulled.
Oh! we've got the lot around here,
The future they call it.