19th February 2020

Barnfield Avenue
Saturday afternoon,
Brentford FC were playing
And father wanted me to go.
I remember screaming
Bawling at the top of my lungs,
I was four maybe five
Far too young to understand
That parents fight sometimes
And children always suffer. 
Tudor Drive
Sunday night,
Pubs quickly emptying
And madness stalked the streets. 
I watched her casually
Distracted by my own small problems,
I was eighteen she probably twenty
Tomorrow still a million miles away,
Until it came crashing and she was gone
Taken by heroin and my indifference. 
It was the second time death robbed me
Tore away my closest friend without a thought,
Whispered in my shell like threateningly
Trevor, I am watching you.
I shrugged
For I was shameless then,
Without fear or conscience
Able to turn and walk away
From blame and responsibility
Much like my father did,
Or so it seemed to me
Standing on the terraces
Surrounded by blue and white
And caring for nothing but the final score. 
Make the map of the past
Guide the steps of the future,
Help the wisdom of words
Prick the conscience of kings.
Let the strength of the victor
Be a shield to the vanquished,
Help the wealth of the merchant
Feed the orphans in need.

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