DOWN HELL’S ROAD
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A figure of a man lurks in a doorway
On a dimly lighted street,
The once busy shops around him
Give off no light or heat.

One by one they had all closed down
Put the shutters up for good,
There were no customers willing to shop
and no reason why they should.

It was once a thriving busy street
Full of people doing their things,
Friends meeting up having a drink,
Maybe shopping for diamonds or rings.

The pavement slabs were covered in weeds
Forcing their way up through the stones,
And in the gutter the rotting remains
Of a half eaten Roll and chicken bones.

Through a broken window above one of the shops
Loud music drifts to the ground,
The curtain is a blanket dirty and torn
And It’s swaying to the beat of the sound.

There were seven or eight people inside the room
All lying around on the floor,
There were popping pills and empty lager cans
Used sharps and syringes galore.

In the far corner of that evil smelling room
A young girl was laid out on her side,
a needle was sticking out from her arm.
her condition was to obvious to hide.

It was her first time ,just for kicks
To be known as one of the crowd,
Her innocence caused her to over dose,
now all she’ll get is a shroud!