In Among All The Ruin There Is Reparation Poem by Mark Heathcote

In among all the ruin, there is life.
God, he must work at the corner catalogue shop.
The one before 'Afterlife' next to 'Hope and Despair'
With 'Liberty Bell' ringing, counter ringing in both ears
God, he must be hoping our overdrafts they're clear.

In among all the ruin, there is salvation.
God, he must work at a downtown liqueur store.
One where we can't purchase any more in insolvency
Before closing times, guilty-serrated edges
Passes us by like 70% off a pair of sunglasses.

In among all the ruin, there is forgiveness.
God, he must work in the local fashion warehouse.
Or even a quiet Nero's café, where street urchins,
With ruddy blue eyes, cries, blow their noses
On their second hand, hand-me-down clothes.

In among all the ruin, there is reparation.
God, he must work as a bookie on lost causes.
Maybe he's working for free at the local charity.
I know I can see he's been working on me.
For what has felt to me like an eternity.