Hive

tales lie in storeys

mine's number ten

concrete and steel

make this tiny den

 

fresh air's aplenty

noise from the lift

my cell  ten years

I won't ever shift

 

far horizon dizzy

balcony's for birds

walls to speak to

echoing my words

 

the drop reassures

if you're depressed

open the window

drunk first is best

 

glimpsed one hurtle

free with one bound

going at high speed

as she met ground

 

dont see neighbours

hear raised voices

iron grilles on doors

limited life choices

 

dont think about it

caged souls below

gales make it sway

towering with woe

 

reeks of stale urine

rank odours old age

stairs far too risky

drugs bring on rage

 

tend to stay inside

if lift's out of order

no food shortages

if you're a hoarder

 

not a place for kids

underclass reigns

even pure daylight

fear paints stains

 

when I die up here

hope the lift works

get down my coffin

no unseemly jerks

 

 

 

balconycageddropdrugsgaleshiveliftstoreysunderclass

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Comments

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Aviva Rifka Bhandari

Wed 20th Jan 2021 14:01

I can really feel the melancholy building in this poem... literally.
I think the structure of the text itself represents the tall tower too.

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