Fenced In (Poverty Row)

 

I have been here in this part of town

since the day I started to have memories.

I do not remember the day it was,

just the picture and words in my head.

 

Not too much has changed here

in this weathered, rusted trailer town.

The trees have earned new branches, 

new dust is covering the old,

but the road all around is still not paved

and the homes are rotting with patched age.

 

For most of us, these are our first homes,

handed from father to son.

None of us have the money to buy new.

The ones that did are no longer here,

not sure where they went

because those few never came back.

 

Money is a little sparse here,

our clothes may be age stained

but you work with what you have.

Here we have each other.

In many ways we are richer than most.

 

The city started building around us,

fixing streets, new flower beds,

planting new grass all over

without ever entering our little park.

 

We just figured they were too scared

to cross the border like we were a disease,

inflicted by a murder here over forty years back

by a couple of drunkards that did not belong.

The brush of guilt has been here since

painting all of us on Poverty Row.

 

What they did so was place fences

all around us to disguise the dirt

and try to make it look good from the outside

so long as no one got curious and looked over.

That was all they did, cage us in.

Not knowing or realizing

that true beauty cannot be built.

We have it here in the rusted tin

that everyone outside just fenced in

to add to our wealth.

 

June 24, 2013   

© Andrew Scott – Just A Maritime Boy 2013

 

Guilty in Hammertown

 

The dark, tortured cloud

has been hanging over us for lot decades

never taking away the evil feeling

that the midnight stars and their beauty

will never grace our eyes ever again

 

Invisible footsteps are heard by naive strangers

the same ones that listen for the clang of the death hammer

imagination confused their senses

in their heads, if you cross  the line, you may die

 

we are tagged with a curse

driven by two hands that swung the weapon

that took a man almost a century ago

when the hangman made them pay their debt

we all paid the price 

of being amongst the guilty

living here in Hammertown

 

July 1, 2013

© Andrew Scott – Just A Maritime Boy 2013

 

Dereliction of Duty

 

Drinking my morning coffee, hauling on a cigarette

watching the sunrise over the trees

sitting in the open air on my back balcony

nervously getting reacquainted with a normal life

or what others think plain living is

 

I remember when it was decided that I needed this

actually everything was decided for me

and I just went along with it

for my sanity and being able to live

with the decisions made that I knew where right

 

There are people all around me 

that have been familiar for years

no w I have to actually get to know them

as members of my immediate family

 

It was the voices of the family elders

that has me sitting here now

being raised to know right from wrong

and to believe in standing by it

without every second guessing it. 

 

 It was an order by a person 

that thought they would be just followed

by humans with blind eyes

 

I heard the words but did not believe

in the order that was to be best for all around

I listened to my own reasoning

and would not move without saying a word

my face said it all

I did not care if anyone would join me

 

They say what I did 

in some places was dereliction of duty

and I was sent home to start over

 

In reflection, staring at the new sunrise

in a place that is a mystery

waiting to be introduced to this world

that is so frightening to me

but I put myself here by believing in true right

I would do it again. 

 

June 14, 2013  

Andrew Scott – Just A Maritime Boy 2013

 

It’s Over

 

The drummers of time 

are slowing down to a thud

the same sounds that you 

will be hearing soon in your demise

 

Your smugness and conceit

are evident for all to see

the downfall of your soul

is believing all that 

you have built yourself to be

that is a place above us all 

a pedestal that is listening

under the weight of your ego

 

The weight of your own intolerance

has made you deaf to the outside

the piper is marching on you

and your blinded senses

cannot let you see beyond yourself

 

The days of administering pain

stealing the memories of innocent

whispering promises of grandeur

for you are soon to be over

 

you will melt under the pressure

of the hands of your own torture

no one can match the discretions

of the path you have paved

of the ruins of your victims

 

the most dedicated shape shifter

has blood in their veins

the same veins that are empty 

in the vessel you call a body

that is why you are dead inside

and now defeated, dead to us all

you will not dictate our path 

feel the brutal wrath of truth

for you, it is over

 

June 20, 2013   

Andrew Scott – Just A Maritime Boy 2013

 

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