Poem for Pentwyn

Pentwyn (pron: pen-twin) is an area of Cardiff. It is on the outskirts, physically and in other ways. It's not all bad, but being a misery guts I have zoomed in on the sadness and dilapidation of the area, rather than its more positive points. This be the result:

Poem for Pentwyn

This is where the houses look like weeping heads
This is where the children sleep in unmade beds
This is where the washing hangs itself on lines
This is where graffiti obliterates the signs
This is where you find discarded clothing in the park
This is where the daytime’s just as dangerous as dark

Pentwyn
Twined with no-one
Pentwyn
A place penned-in
Pentwyn
Pent up with sadness
Pentwyn
More lose than win

This is where the bluebottles breed inside the bins
This is where the beer bottles lead to other things
This is where the lampposts blink like frightened men
Then black out when young girls shout beneath their gaze again
This is where the ragged woods are all choked up with cans
This is where the boys in hoods steal from each others’ nans

Pentwyn
Twined with no-one
Pentwyn
A place penned-in
Pentwyn
Pent up with sadness
Pentwyn
More lose than win

This is where the gardens grow busted-up TVs
This is where the needles that you find don’t fall from trees
This is where the sun beats too hard upon bare backs
This is where the rain falls down broken pavement cracks
This is where the women have one too many kids
This is where the kids end up in those ‘most wanted’ vids

Pentwyn
Twined with no-one
Pentwyn
A place penned-in
Pentwyn
Pent up with sadness
Pentwyn
More lose than win