Rhyl

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Grandness barred

cut off

from rewards and renovations.

 

Syringes injecting

into the sandy grasslands

the remnants of young

lives attempted.

 

Young eyes ringed in

dark shadows,

seek change,

asking – not hoping –

for a chance.

 

Cashing themselves in

for a second stab

of the wire cutters,

even as the maintenance guys

hammer nails into the never-ending rows of

chipboard coffins.

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, 6th August, 2019

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