Teesside Streets

if these Teesside streets could speak

they’d say how beautiful we are,
how we meet on the corners, scream our silence
into the town, knocked down, pushed around but looking
up to skies that cradle us all

they’d say we deserve more,
that the music we make is rooted in notes only we can play,
wish we could bottle that – taste this they’d say,
pure Teesside, street wise, eyes wide,
scoring out a future from the side-lines

they’d say we twist and turn with the Tees,
a river of steel flowing through us,
branching out into streams that always lead to home

these streets would say we have community,
that we are a union of poetry,
we have a way with words that turn others green,
kicking the blues into next week
we sneak a peek at the sun setting just over the border

they’d say we walk to our own beat;
we breathe in iron;
you can hear our echoes down the alleys,
if these Teesside streets could speak they’d say:
slice through the smog of beggared loss and see
how beautiful we are