John Scully (19th October 1947 / London)

For I was reared in the great city
And saw nought but the sky
And the town's people
Packed in their caves
Like Neanderthal slaves.
And the Great War for civilisation
Crashed down on my head
Whilst those in the know
Looked elsewhere instead.

Peace rallies and strikes
Students on bikes
Postmen and city gents too,
All pass me by on their way
While I sit solid and coblestone firm
Waiting for Christmas Day.
For that's when it's slient for a day
When nobody walks
Over my gown of pavement grey.