The London Mile

Poem – The London Mile by Natasha

We can feel entrapped,

Enclosed and surrounded,

Yet the walls built,

Gates closed are not a Welcome,

To the people in search of refuge,

Abandoned, down trodden by their tribe.

A mile can seem an eternity for a blind man,

A man with one leg,

A man with crutches,

A man with his face wrinkled and weather beaten,

A man with a sack filled with sorrow,

By storm George.

The winds continue to disrupt,

The money foundations crashed,

The sickness travels as fast as they breathe,

The snow is coming…

Who will light the fire,

Put logs to warm their hands,

Let them rest their weary feet,

Bathe their cuts, bruises, and

Wash away their stories of battle …

To a bowl ladden with Love …

Light a candle …

Welcome to the London Mile …

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