Bromley-By-Bow

I have this special feeling
In my chest
Whenever I pass you,
Bromley-by-Bow.

Is it respect, is it
The feeling of home?
What is it, I don't know;
I have heard
People talking of home,
I understand,
Bromley-by-Bow.

Right between my breasts
Where my heart should have been,
(Or was, at any rate
Long before I can remember) ,
I get this funny feeling:
A strange warm sensation
That makes me look at the letters
Again and again:
Bromley-by-Bow.

To be homeless and out
And to find
Shelter,
Warm loving care,
Respect, esteem, value.
Is good food
That I found in you
Bromley-by-Bow.

You thought I was stone
Or that-I didn't have
A heart, with which to feel,
Bromley-by-Bow.

Not entirely true, though
I do not have a heart,
I can still feel you in that hole,
Bromley-by-Bow.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
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