Poems by Keith T. Fryup
Little Indian sisters peering through the balcony rails,
Shaded by the washing, no suggestions of a jail,
The Tower Block wrapped around them with its concrete arms,
Their innocent imaginations held within its palms.
Playing in their haven, heavy traffic roaring by,
They dance the Kathakali from their balcony in the sky,
Waving to their neighbours (or inmates, as 'they' would say),
They fruitlessly await responses, unaware of 'their' decay.
Loud voices through the night time, as the hot air saunters in,
All asleep in one bedroom, the girls impervious to the din,
Mum and Dad sleep lightly in case the night time bites,
But at dawn the girls awake safely, oblivious to 'inmate' fights.
As the girls grow older balcony life seems less ideal,
The needles, fights and damp all of a sudden become very real,
The Tower Block still caressing but now in a stranglehold,
The dancing Sister's innocence faded under Tower Block mould.
Behind the Curtain
Happy thoughts, telling jokes; pretty smiles and loving folks.
Assume the best, being accepted, people to see and never rejected
Being myself, creating schemes; taking risks and live my dreams.
Make the call, take my turn, have my say and being firm.
Front of queue, joining in, on the team and believe I'll win
Having worth, knowing better, looking good, a fashion setter
Good reflection, feeling tall, well constructed and on the ball
Having friends, kiss and tell, swapping secrets and mates that gel
No rebelling, not alone, rarely angry, rarely moan
Never bored, keeping fit, achieving goals, Premiership!
Being healthy, not too thin, like to dance and like to sing
Respecting others, do my best, appreciate family and know I'm blessed
Behind the Curtain this is me, let the light in and set me free.