change
found under bridges
by canals
where they built social prisons
in the high rise 1960’s

i am standing,
everytime a compliment is thrown
i reach out to catch it
but i move at the last moment

the record has stuck
with the needle in the groove
the scene of the past
no longer moves

they felt that they had got closer
to the truth
than anyone had before
that they had found
an inner truth like some magical door

felt rain on the window
an almighty glow
my natural fires

the damp damp smell
of age encrusted fears
lies dormant in the wishing well
where wishes are not more
and only time will tell

life is a revolution
will you join in
you read with blank eyes
what was it,
that died inside?