A 60's Runaway. Poem by Ann Mitchell

As we walk the narrow streets with empty stomaches and tired feet, we meet a Belgian by the name of Jon and very soon we've learned to con.
To the arts lab he took us away from Police there we were safe and stayed in one piece
The crypt was a place where you could sleep all day and then just leave without having to pay,
Around the dilly we often sat, we'd meet a few friends and have a chat, the tea that we drank cost sevenpence a cup, so if you were broke you were glad of a sup,
John Pablo Sands was a Mexican guy, took me to St Ives and then said good bye,
Again i'll go back to the life i once knew and maybe look up a guy called Lou.