No Joy Poem by Tom Priestley

Here is your playground
Apiece of history
Spat out to reveal council estates
All night gold emporiums
War paraphernalia
Factory fodder and time wasted
On warm beer
Scrubbers seeking a ring and a child
To escape from parenthood
No replies from the exciting world
That is far away
No joy from friends
Just hate jackets and retarded slums
This electric circus breaks apart the quiet night
As we say goodbye to the landscape
And play in blue rooms
And discarded empty buildings
Searching for the loss of happiness with naive smiles
And muffled expectations
That is something worthwhile