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You Alright Then? - Steven Pearman

A tolerant city breath low in the frost of the morning chill,

proud and resilient the cold marks its earth/

The icey stoned walk warming the souls of immigrant shopkeepers well the youth make their way home

before the sun seeps through the clouds/

Masculine bricks banking the unabridged maze of bookies, tailors and gypsy bakers

hustling to the metro march of the central line/

The city helps us sing to the heavens,

with her majesty's grace we pretty young things run wild with a pint in our hands/

Hiding in trees, the homes for lost old men sleeping off lost old dreams

this traditional land of word and labour/

An ode to our dry flaky skin

a freedom for our making/

London she breathes

I miss you


Bio:

Steve is new to the world of literature, after working as a tradesmen building houses, he quit his job and moved to London. Upon his travels he discovered a love for poetry and in March 2020 began writing his own poems during the covid quarantine back in Australia.

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