London east, and I’m standing still. When I feel the age old past reaching out from busy streets.
The people I pass are mere shadows… hushing by like in a dream
but the derelict buildings they talk and the ghosts within they speak to me, vividly,
with angry sighs of untold misery
and bygone injustice, of suffering and sorrows vast,
labour and endurance of stones they had build to last
the lost souls that always will remain… urging me to switch sides, insisting I should stay.
Tempting me with unkind words; saying the living have nothing to offer someone like me,
they’ll always be passing shadows, they will never allow me to blend in…
How odd, how the mundane folk awaken once they’ve passed their mortal time
And when all you have is the company of ghosts attending your mind,
Oh how easy it could be to just give in.
- Miss A. Mey (c)
- Photo taken in my current neighbourhood, Shoreditch, East London 1 May, ’17