Gated For Whom? Poem by C Richard Miles

They sit safe, cowering, behind their metal fences,
Protected, sanitised, from the menace of the street
In their new, ivory towers of gated, chic complexes,
Playgrounds just for city kids, hedges cut so neat
Not even straying dandelions dare grow under the gaze
Of be-capped, stern concierge, like a prison-camp guard.
But who is it he’s guarding? Who is it encaged?
Does it stop intruders or are the paying inmates barred
Inside their sterile dungeon deprived of human rights
To interact with workers, whom they view as the underclass
That festers, outside the walls, in unending urban nights?
Whilst they, contemplating their perceived greener grass,
Rest in uneasy contentment, unmolested for a while.
But do the walls protect them? Are they really safe
From all that the world throws their way? Can they smile
As soul-destroying emptiness portends an early grave?