For Monday at Onestop poetry

I missed yesterdays photoprompt as I spent the day with my mother in the local A&E department.  My mother is 83 and collapsed while we were out shopping.  I know we hear a lot of bad stuff about the NHS but at times like this it is invaluable.  No worrying about cost or insurance, just good treatment and helpful people.   Tesco's people were great too, helpful and kind.  Bless them all.


So, free verse.  Not my strong suit.  Here goes anyway.

 Thanks to Chris Galford for the use of the photo.

Scratched Out

There may be jewels here,

diamonds scattered amid the broken glass,

in this splashy art, adorning walls

of cankered concrete, there may be

a masterpiece that’s worthy of

its place in history.

But here they’re lost,

tarnished by the dirt and grime

impossible to recognise

like solid gold around the neck

of some homeless woman

bedecked with trashy bling.

Pure notes drowned

by blaring screams of individuality

whose night-creeping performer

declare their independence

safe in blank anonymity,

hidden freedom writers.

For anyone wondering about the title, graffitti is derived from the Italian work meaning scratched.