Apr 302014

The Game Poem Sam Backhouse Image


Down by the field of mooing cows
And the higgledy-piggledy farmer’s house
I wait for the loud metal bus
To take me away into the rush
Taking me to a heaving street
Where there’s no grass beneath my feet
The sky scraping buildings are overweight
Filled with office jobs I hate
An urban wasteland filled with man
That is too spread out across this land
Every road, it is the same
An invitation to the game
This game I do not want to play
But I am forced into it everyday.

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