Since I lived in the shadow of Grenfell in the 70s in what is now the 'Latymer Christian Centre' the tragedy has moved me more than I can adequately express

Here's a pome comparing Grenfell with the Parsi towers of silence.

"A Tower In Silence"

High above the city
On Malabar Hill, Mumbai
Stands a mist caressed silent tower

A shrine of mystery
Where carrion birds flock to feast
On reverently prepared
Cadavers of former dignitaries
And indigent beggars
Awaiting ravening beak and claw,
To soar as high as eagles fly.
Or become flesh of vultures flesh

A tower of awful silence
Stands proud over Latimer Road.
A cemetery of souls
Poor and poorer- the world in miniature
Children, fathers, aged mothers
Tenants, undocumented others
Sacrificed at an altar where
Avarice is the key
And profit is the deity.

The twisted charred remains
Of those awaiting liberation
Waving sheets to gain attention
At smoke obscured windows
Before the flash of fire
Rendered them flesh of flesh
Carbonised, inseparable
From scorched rag clothes
Poundshop plastic kitchenware
Cheap carpeting, cheese-plants,
Beds, bookcases, pots and pans
And BrightHouse flat screen televisions
Now wait for springer spaniel noses

Some will be found, counted, toe-tagged
Anonymous in sombre body bags
Taken down to earth
Laid in earth
To slowly return to earth
As the thickening fog of lawyers' lies
And legal niceties
Gives the guilty
Liberty to shut their ears to children's cries
Wash their hands and walk stain free

The silent tower stands
Blackened stark
A wordless victims' epitaph