The 2011 August riots spread around England like a virus. Images of pitched battles against the police, cars & buildings set ablaze & the tragic death of 5 people were broadcast around the world. The causes have been the subject of much debate. I spent my August night sitting outside my block with a few other residents....just waiting.
Dear Mr Juvenile,
Dear Mr Juvenile,
I'm really struggling to understand what's happening across the land,
The streets that I knew as a little boy, I can barely recognise them as a man,
And maybe that's just the path that my generation has to face,
A path in which you play a part,
But a path in which I claim a stake,
Now I fully understand alienation,
I remember youthful frustration,
The similar talks of the disenfanchisement,
Of Thatcher's "lost generation",
I know all about "Stop & Search",
I bear the scars & show the hurt,
And I know how hard it is to stand tall,
When they close the walls around your worth,
But what I don't understand is....
Why am I sitting outside my block at 4 o' clock in the morning?
Keeping watch so that you don't rob my family.
Just because you're finding life boring,
You claim that nobody gives a damn,
But I've seen the dramas between the gangs,
Allowing post-codes to carve you up,
With self-inflicted cuts,
You're playing the Devil's postman,
Maybe I'm just a little out of touch,
Can you please school me onto something?
Is this consumerism in its purest form?
Or a mental wardrobe malfunction?
We all know that life can seem unjust,
And a day of mayhem provides a rush,
Absent fathers are like absent leaders,
When you really need them... they don't show up.
Is this the only way for your story to get told?
Or is it all about that mobile phone?
Or have we just fought too many battles abroad,
Neglecting the war-zones outside our homes?
How can you & I peacefully communicate?
Before the tension really escalates?
The rich preach greed to the trickle-down thief,
So you rush out onto the street & cheaply imitate,
So Dear Mr Juvenile,
I'm still sitting outside my block,
Waiting for your path to cross with mine,
'Cos we're both against the clock,
Perhaps I'll never truly understand,
This new road on which you venture,
But I'll still extend my hand,
In the hope that we can,
Fix this mess together,
(c) Mr Gee 2011