Death of the High Street
The toppled torso
tired and torn
lay in the Church Street window
Snapshot of fallen glory
now in tired languor
seeking to hide from view
attempting to forget its past
Once peacock proud
And prettified
full-fashioned
Embellished and brocaded
Bedecked in yesterday’s mode
Reduced now to a fallen dusted death
Memento Mori
Of yet another High Street death
Politics. Humour. Stories. Philosophy. Poetry. And all in randomness within this universe and the next, because why not?
This blog is my creative outlet where I can share my photos, my travels, my random thoughts and a bit of myself.
We're all human here, don't ever forget that. Human-Kind, be both.
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There’s never a right time but always a write time....
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At a loss for words, i leave myself on paper.
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Asleep at the wheel, but awake in my dreams....
by Sam Allen
Finding Your Words
Roland's Ragbag 