Johannesburg Blues.
walking in this city of diamonds,
gold deep beneath my feet,
sleeping under her rainy skies,
embracing my newspaper sheet.
i had a life long ago, a woman too,
now I’m just a huddle of rags
while the women walk past
never reaching into their Gucci bags.
she left me, or i left myself,
on these bleak Jo’burg roads,
searching for that fix
at these desolate crossroads.
now i stand alone,
these empty streets my bed,
my blood soaking the earth
with drops of beaten red.
so i wish you well, friends,
i wish you gold dust amidst the fray,
all of you who walk on and away,
leaving me to beg or borrow,
to get through another Jo’burg day.
_________________
published in http://spadinaliteraryreview.com/
An insightful piece…your words should be set to music (blues, of course)!
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thank you ever so much … the blues of course! ✌☺👍✊
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Excekkent piece. While such peole arein many cities the special irony of being in the place of diamonds and gold makes in all the more poignant.
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Thank you, and yes, my friend, it’s criminal that so few have so much and so many so little. Warmest wishes and regards from South Africa ✌👍✊
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Reblogged this on Still Another Writer's Blog.
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