Sheffield used to have a great town centre, full of independent shops, at one time you could even park a car without a mortgage, we even had public toilets! We have now a few little enclaves that have been regenerated, a winter garden some big silver balls and a fountain but the city has no soul.

URBAN BLIGHT

When I visit the city, it’s not the where it or who
It’s not the buildings old or new, or the people like a human zoo
It’s certainly not the building sites
Or the examples of urban blight

Its not the neon flicker, flicker
Or the depth of all the litter
Certainly not the shuttered shops
Or the smell of the breweries hops

It’s not the graffiti far too bright
Not the drunks ready for a fight
Not the addicts in comatose state
Nor the broken society that’s sealed their fate

Not the beggars in every other door
In fact I don’t know what I came here for
Maybe I’m just an iconoclast
And one who longs for a long lost past.

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The decay is spreading outward, the little DIY shop where I worked that was at the centre of our community now closed, no doubt going to be another money laundering vape shop or Turkish hairdressers.

You are damn right I’m bitter!

All words Meadowhead Bard