I Cant Stand This World Yet It Inspires Me So Poem by Not Long Left

Found myself walking the street
As evening entered the sky
And as a greyness spilled outwards
I felt myself searching again.

A Wheelchair lay broken in an
alleyway, it struggles to support itself,
Feld up and out of use.
In each of its wheels on each
rusty spoke, I see coloured balls
The wheels are not moving
yet I hear a gentle clanging.

I remain where I stand but am
drifting elswehere, watching him
ride his bike hands thrust in the air
tempting and mocking fate,
as children so often do.

I am back. Above me a kite flaps
with frustration, It is tangled round
a telephone wire, it calls out in
contant agiatation. I feel the sadness
of loss and hopelessness.

The trees watch with me
they acknowlegde with silent nods
The one closest to me has been
pissed on, its bark sprayed and stinking
It has no choice but to stand and to show.

The playground is dead without the
beat of tiny feet. The vultures stab at
the wooden frames, with stolen knives
they leave their sign of boredom,
to which the mothers will frown upon tommorow.

And nothing will have changed,
Apart from another entry to this
ever filling, torn, tattered journal.