Homeless guy
sits begging for change
where the streets
don't care for your name
lugging about
all he owns
home
a rough patch of turf
down by the docks

His plight ignored
shunned by those
that walk by with wrinkled nose
save the few
that flick him the odd coin

Guys got to eat
and the cold cobbled stones
ain't no solace
for a warm bed and a roof over head

As the emos and goths
passed me by
congregating by the flying v guitar
the hippies sat drumming
in a circle
singing
lets give peace a chance

As homeless guy
heads to Greggs
a hot drink
and a feed
the sun is setting
on the streets of Newcastle

This place seemed strange
like home never was
nothing more than
a halfway house
caught between dimensions
a cell to open your eyes
to this lucid nightmare called reality
hopelessly lost
without the slightest hint
of a cause
as to why
the ground is pockmarked
with craterous scars
as the foliage  falls
bled dry for another shopping mall

but all is well
in the fertile lands
of the democratically free
even if its democracy at the end of a gun
jobs are on the rise
the army needs boots on the ground
paid for from the taxpayers purse
of course
the night is dark and full of terrors
so you better pick a side
after all
it's not like terrorism
was figmented in the imagination
as just another means of control

while freedom hangs overhead
like the illusion of a carrot
as the donkey
desperately avoids the stick
consuming the soil
for capitalistic gain
apathetic to plight
empty..

nothing more than a synthetic mess
a big mac wrapper
thankful the global elite
cares enough to feed the drones
marching conformingly
to the drummers beat

when did the darkness burn so bright
while everyone sits idly as the light fades
why did no one intervene
who cared to know
what happened here