My Newcastle

Through Northumberland street
The dreadlocked jazz player
Strums his guitar
The sand sculpture moulds life like animals
The voluptuous red lipped opera singer
Brings a touch of class to my Newcastle
I follow the pilgrim down the road
Onward to the market
Along Grainger street
Happily I follow onto Westgate
Up the hilly road I climb
Past the bike shops I continue
The West road is altogether different
The story of when
The top man pulls out
And the middle man cuts down
And leaves the man at the bottom
To drown in an empty sea
The littered streets
Leave everybody with no pride of community
The lawns become home overgrown Amazon
Hefty collection fees
Make it a task for those with less

Ruth Nyimba